


Hush

by emma_and_orlando, Newtgitsune



Series: HUSH [1]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Deaf Character, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minewt Bang 2016, Stalking, mostly angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 05:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8878120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma_and_orlando/pseuds/emma_and_orlando, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newtgitsune/pseuds/Newtgitsune
Summary: Newt wasn't one for the big city. At 13 years a operation went terribly bad and left him deaf for the rest of his life. He was content living alone, safely deep in the forest in his cozy cabin.But now his current long term boyfriend, Minho, persuaded Newt into coming to live with him in the city. So Newt takes it upon himself to enjoy his last weekend in his cozy closed up cabin. What he didn't expect to happen was to be stalked in his own house to utter insanity. Praying for Minho to come and save him before Newt started to beg for death.Actual description:  A deaf writer who retreated into the woods to live a solitary life must fight for his life in silence when a masked killer appears at his window.





	1. mîn

**Author's Note:**

> For the Minewt Bang! We have worked so long to get this together for today! I want to thank Aj for the art and Micky for beta'ing and my ipad for supporting my 4 AM writing.
> 
> Story is based off the Netflix Movie Hush, but the ending is different, so anyone who still wants to watch it or already did, no spoilers really apply.

If Newt had to describe his life in one sentence, it would be; Cozy, alone and quiet, but content.

It hadn't always been that way, everything changed after an unsuccessful surgery which had left him deaf for the rest of his life. Not only taking away his hearing, but also his speech. 

Adjusting didn't go fast, but he was a smart kid- the doctors said so, at least. 

He managed quite well eventually. 

After high school, a horrible place full of pity, staring and frustration for Newt, college came as a relief.

He found friends who didn't know him before the surgery. Or even friends with the same problems. 

He still wasn't much of a social butterfly, not unfriendly, but just not one for parties or big crowds that could only disorient him. 

His study went amazing, his writing improved and his professors stayed impressed throughout the years, not going easy on him because of his disability.

Finally he felt like he belonged somewhere.

And that feeling of contentment only became more complete after meeting Minho Park. Star of the football team- soccer as Minho would call it - and a promising editor in the upcoming future.

It was all complete fate that the professor made Newt partner up with Minho for their assignment. Newt had to write a story and Minho was going to edit it, and together they would present it to the class.

Even with Newt's lack of hearing, they bonded immediately. 

Newt tried to act as social as he could muster without going insane, he went on lunch dates- or even a party or two for the sake of seeing Minho more, or 'accidentally' bumping into him. 

While Minho stayed up all night to learn a little bit of sign language- even if it wasn't necessary with Newt's ability to read lips. Minho tried his best to surprise Newt everyday again.

It didn't take a lot of time before their friendship turned into something more, and before they got their degrees, they became inseparable for life.

After college Newt retreated back into his cabin in the woods. He lived there through four years of college and could work from there just fine.

Cozy, alone and quiet. 

It was a nice place, and he could call it all his own. Never he had felt anywhere more at home than here.

That was until Minho came along one day. And asked Newt to come and live with him in the city.

The crowded, busy, mindless, uncaring and unsafe city.

It wasn't a very hard decision as Newt thought it was going to be. Living with Minho was worth giving up the security of the forest. 

The green all around or fresh autumn air. 

Without Minho, Newt could hardly live a content life. That was one of the things he noticed in the short moments he couldn't spend close to Minho.

So he took it upon himself to make his last weekend in his cozy cabin amazing, before moving out with Minho into the big world.

And hell if he wasn't going to enjoy his last few days alone in his safe haven. 

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

Frowning down at the recipe on the vegetarian website, Newt couldn't put his finger on what he had forgotten to add or do. 

Thoughtfully glancing back towards the kitchen, mentally checking if he had cut the unions, cooked the asparagus and put the potatoes in the oven to get crunchy.

Yes, everything was done, the nagging in his mind could only be an imagination. 

< You're going crazy, > He hummed to himself. Poking a fork into the cooking asparagus, < This food looks like shit. The cat wouldn't eat it. > before turning back to check over his iPad.

* one unread message *

He raised an eyebrow, washing his hands and drying them. < who's bothering me? >

* two unread messages * 

Newt rolled his eyes while opening the messages to see them coming from his neighbor Thomas; The closest neighbor who lived a few miles away. 

They weren't particularly best friends, especially because Thomas knew Newt from before the accident. And he tended to act really awkward around Newt since he stopped using verbal words. But somehow they managed to stay in contact through the years, even with Newt's greatest attempts on isolation. 

T: Hey Newt  
T: Heard u gonna move, can I stop by?

< Is it so hard to ask for a little moment of fucking peace in this world? > Newt sighed to himself. Hoping Thomas wasn't intending to stay for longer than an hour or two. 

N: Sure - cooking

* Tommy is typing *

Newt quickly glanced over to the left to see the asparagus boiling over.  
< fuck fuck fuck- shit >

As quickly as he could he turned the stove off and cleaned the overflown water. 

It wasn't easy to cook without hearing what was happening where. One time he had even left the tap on for over an hour, only to notice his kitchen became a indoor pool when his feet had gotten wet.

Newt rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. < All your own fault. You know you should keep two eyes open >

T: I'm coming  
N: C u

* Battery low * 

< Terrific, > Newt mused. Taking his iPad to charge on the coffee table.

He glanced around for his cellphone. < Where are you, you little shi- Oh, found you. >

Quickly he stalked over to the bookcase and took his phone from one of the planks. < any messages? >

Opening his phone, he had one new message from Thomas. Asking if he should bring anything.

N: food I made doesn't look too well. Pizza?  
T: Sure thing Newt

< At least I get something out of this. > He thought dryly. Knowing he should at least try to feel guilty for thinking that way, because he knew Thomas was only trying.

Newt sighed, going through his apps to find his agenda.

\- Washing  
\- cooking  
\- packing  
\- WRITING!!!  
\- feed cat  
\- charge phone night

< Way to go Newt, you've got a lot to do. > There went his relaxing night, adding Thomas' visit along. 

He started with the necessary, going through the cupboards and getting the cat-food in the cup. 

On his tired feet Newt walked to the front door, made of clear glass so he could keep a good look at his surroundings at all times. Windows placed on every corner of the house. 

Newt would probably miss that the most when he would move in with Minho. He would miss the view on the forest and surroundings. 

Slowly he opened the door. Cursing himself for not dressing up warmer in the bitter cold of the late autumn. 

< Amazing... Dobby better be close, because this door is closing in five minutes. > He thought bitterly as the wind caught. 

With cold hands he started shaking the cup with food. Imagining how the sound would rattle through the silence of the forest. 

He sighed, glancing over at his phone again.

* two missed messages *

T: I'm walking btw  
T: What were u cooking

< Typical Tommy, in need of attention at all times. > Newt thought, feeling a little amused as well as fond.

N: Just a mess of vegetarian shit.  
N: questioning my life style.

Suddenly he felt a whoosh of air passing his feet. < what the- Oh! Dobby. >

He crouched down to pet the cat, placing the cup of food down by the dinner table. 

< enjoy, Honey. >

Quickly he went back tot he front door, because slowly he saw Thomas coming down the path towards his cabin in the distance. 

T: I don't see any flames  
T: from here anyway


	2. tâd

Thomas and Newt were lounging on the front steps of the cabin. Pizza boxes empty and wine glasses kept getting filled.

"How's Dobby doing?"

/ Still an independent Bitch \

"What was the last word?" 

Newt smiled. Spelling the letters one by one. / B I T C H \

Thomas smiled, taking another sip of his wine. 

"Would you like to come over and watch a movie? Gally won't be home in about an hour, so we still get to pick the movie." 

< Him and Gally. Still very interesting > Newt always expected it to be a short fling. Gally was a tall grumpy asshole, and Thomas was a tall idiotic dumbass, but it has been months to years of a healthy relationship together. 

/ Can't Tommy. Have to work to do \ He says instead, taking a few sips from his wine. /And I promised Minho to call \

Thomas nodded, getting to his feet. "This was amazing, Newt." 

Newt nodded, taking the glass back from Thomas. / Was nice to talk again \

"We need to stay in contact. And thank you for signing that book."

Newt smiles. / You are very welcome. Good to see you again. Thank you for dinner \

Thomas pulled him in one last hug, minding the glasses of wine. 

"We need to stay in contact now I can do sign language."

Newt bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. / You suck at it, Tommy \

"I'm actually taking a class with Gally to learn more ASL. So we need to stay in contact."

/ Sounds good. Get home save \ 

"Will do!" Thomas said as he walked down the stairs. "If you need me for moving just ring me." 

Newt smiled. Waving him off into the forest. / Bye Tommy \

< This was nicer than expected. At least he paid for the pizza. Man I'm bitchy > He muses until suddenly his pocket vibrates. Signaling he had a message.

* one unread message *

M: Couldn't stop thinking of you today.

Newt tried to hide his blush as he walked back inside, minding his cat laying by the front door. 

N: that's like super sappy.  
M: don't be cheeky, u love me :D :D  
N: I kinda do  
M: ....kinda...  
N: hmm kinda  
M: you miss me, shank  
N: maybe a little

Newt closed the front door. Sighing happily as he was warm and inside again. 

M: enjoying yourself babe?  
N: got work to do.  
M: that sucks. Tell me if u need me ok?  
N: love you  
M: you too x

Slowly Newt took his shoes off and pulled his coat over the back of the couch. Looking around the living room and the kitchen for the mess he and Thomas had made. 

Wine glasses scattered over the place. Dobby had thrown his food over the floor. The kitchen was a serious mess and pizza boxes were thrown around carelessly. 

< work and cleaning, what a way to spent Friday night Newt >

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

Newt puts his wine down on the ground as he tried to make up his mind. Words were floating uselessly around in his head, and everything he typed down on his Mac was either illogical or irrelevant to the plot. 

< this way your book is going to end up in the trash can > Newt tries to type again, rubbing his forehead to get rid of the headache. 

< try this; anger was the only answer to the unjust- wrong use of vocabulary- violence was the only thing on her mind- doesn't sound like she means it- resentment bubbled up from deep down and scattered over her mind through her body- never going to finish this book >

Newt sighs, going through his documents to open the seventh option on an ending. < unsure of what to come in the nearing future. Who was going to tell her where to go- makes no sense- not true to her prophecy she chose the way of death and destruction. Pain flowing through her veins but feeling she couldn't.- too sad, don't kill off Erik- >

Newt groaned inwardly, fingers skimming over the keyboard. < perhaps find a new career, that would work better > He scolds himself miserably.

* FaceTime call *  
* Minho Park is calling * 

Newt smiles lightly. Deciding to decline the offer and sending him a iMessage.   
N: Love, I'm miserable and writing  
N: call back later  
M: sure thing babe  
M: good luck  
N: Xxx  
M: XXX

Newt shakes his head fondly before standing up from the couch and making his way to the half cleaned kitchen. 

He sighed to himself. He needed to pull a all-nighter again to get his work done.

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

Thomas' legs threatened to give out under him.

A knife still nestled into his side and a chunk of his thigh got cut off by the masked murderer.

He screamed and cried all the way through the forest. Luckily he had lived here long enough to know the way even with tears blurring his vision. 

He knew it was adrenaline and adrenaline only that kept him on his feet long enough to make it back to Newt's cabin. Murderer hot on his heels. 

He cried out when he made it to the kitchen window, seeing Newt doing the dishes peacefully with a glass of wine on the counter.

"NEWT HELP ME!" He cried out. Fists bumping on the glass window. "NEWT TURN AROUND PLEASE!" 

The deaf man didn't notice a thing, still examining if the pans were clean enough to dry with a towel.

"NEWT PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR!" Thomas yelled, kicking and slamming against the glass. It went red with blood that dripped down his face and hands.

Suddenly an arrow hit him in the shoulder, the murderer only a few feet away. "PLEASE!"

Hot pain flashed through his body. He turned around to see the murderer with a bow in his hand. Triumphantly pushing Thomas' body against the glass.

The masked man pulled the arrow from Thomas' shoulder, earning a sharp cry before stabbing him repeatedly in his chest. Hitting as many fatal organs as the man could muster. 

Thomas' cries slowly went quiet. Hands grasping onto the mans clothed shoulders. Vision was blurry and his head getting light. Body limply falling forward into the mans arms.

The man chuckled lightly as Thomas fell mercilessly in his arms. Exhausted and close to death. Blood mingled with spit dripping on the murderer's shoulder.

"P-p-lease... G-g-gally- I- I- G-gall-ally" Thomas gasps as the man doesn't stop stabbing him, now from behind. 

The murderer rolled his eyes, unseen behind his mask. Throwing Thomas' body to the ground when it got limp and heavy. 

He turned his face back to the window. Where the lanky blond was doing the dishes, not seeing anything that went on down by the window just a few feet behind him.

The man had to admit that the brunet had screamed loud enough for anyone inside to be able to hear as clear as daylight. 

He raised an eyebrow, watching the pretty boy wash his hands on a rag and sort the plates back into the cupboards.

Slowly he raised a hand and tapped his finger lightly against the window. Testing his theory.

It went unnoticed by the blond. 

His single finger got joined by his entire first, bumping against the window in a faster and harder pace.

Still the blond seemed content in his actions. 

Perhaps this weekend held a little bit more excitement than he had expected. He thought with an idea gracing his mind.

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

Newt sighed before scanning over the kitchen and lazily deciding everything was clean enough for the moment.

He smiled as he sat back on the couch and relaxed into the cushions . 

He checked the time, almost two in the morning, terrific. 

 

His fingers went over the keyboard. Eyes closed in concentration. < Perhaps killing Erik anyway? Angry readers are still surprised readers >

He shrugged the idea off immediately, because he liked Erik and he was the fuel to the story. 

Going back to writing ending number five. That seemed the most logical and plot twisted ending he could think of. 

And it still wasn't good enough yet. 

Rolling his eyes he clicks on caps-lock and wrote: IM A SHITTY WRITER. AND I'M GOING TO DIE OF LONELINESS BEFORE EVER FINISHING MY SECOND BOOK.

-

What Newt didn't notice was the back door slowly opening, only a few feet behind him.

Without straining to be silent, the masked man stepped into the warm and cozy cabin, his feet shuffling over the wooden floor. His knife making a itching noise as he dragged the tip over the marble counter.

Creeping up to stand behind the blond. Making sure he didn't breathe close to the exposed neck. And to get himself noticed too early. 

The man leaned against one of the wooden bookcases around the living room. Seeing the blond writing in caps on his laptop.

Not a sound left the boys lips while typing. ENDING STUFF. THE END. MONEY NOW PLEASE

He chuckled lightly, the mask on his face slightly uncomfortable in the warmth of the cabin. Bloody knife cleaned against the blondie's coat.

Suddenly the blond got a FaceTime call and the sudden noise set the masked man off for a moment. 

* Minho P calls *

Newt smiles before answering, the murderer taking a few steps to the left to keep himself off the cam and close to the door for a quick exit if needed.

"Hey Babe." A warm husky voice whispers from the laptop. 

/ Hello Love. What's up? \

/ Bored without you \

/ Sappy \ Newt smiled as Minho showed his middle finger.

/ Don't be bitchy. It's the book that got your panties in a twist, right? \

Newt sighs. / I'm quitting and taking a job at the circus, people will make fun of my work anyway \

Minho chuckles. Laying on his bed with his old college sweater on. Warm and cozy curled up on Newt's usual side. / This will be a great book \

/ Hang me \ Newt joked, mimicking himself getting hanging on a rope and being shot. 

Minho hummed, sipping on his coffee. / Hanging on the ending? \

/ Which one? I have seven \ Newt says, dramatically pouting to the screen.

Minho laughs. "Glad I'm here to distract you." He says out loud so he can hold his drink.

/ Tommy came by \ Newt mused. / We had pizza \

"Tasty. Was he nice? I hope it didn't ruin your all alone weekend." 

Newt smiles to the screen. / I'm good. Don't worry \ 

Minho takes another sip of his coffee. "I'm pulling an all nighter, you?"

/ You know me Min \

"Our next all nighter will be together." He says happily. Sending a look of pure adoration towards Newt.

Newt bit his lip, trying to keep himself from feeling flustered. / You're being really sappy \

"I know right. Is it working? Feeling better?" 

Newt nodded, taking a few sips of his wine. / Always feel better with you \

"That's why you're coming over to live with your favorite asian."

/ My only asian \ 

They both just stare at each other for a moment. All the words and signs aside. Just seeing what the rest of their lives would look like.

"I love you Newt."

/ I love you too Min \

Minho takes a deep breath. "Newt I-" suddenly his eyes go wide.

/ what? \ Newt asks, only a little panicked.

"I-I thought I saw something move." He put his coffee down to sit upright. / Behind you, Newt \

Newt rolled his eyes, still smiling. < stop trying to scare yourself shank. Minho is a pranker and we know it >

/ Probably Dobby. He escaped again, gotta go find him \

Minho frowned, not sure if he actually believed that he wouldn't recognize Dobby. "Call me in ten minutes okay?"

/ I'm going to try to remember \

"If you don't, I'll call you in a bit. Alright?" 

Newt smiles, / Sure love, see you soon \

"Love you."

/ Love you Min \ 

* FaceTime call cancelled *

02:24 AM

Newt sighed again, shutting his laptop carefully, before standing up and stretching out as if he had woken up from an uncomfortable nap. 

He turned around to check the living room over, before taking some cat food from the cupboard to trick Dobby back inside again.

< Come here kitty. I'm trying to have a relaxed night over here >

He turned on all the lights, making his way from the kitchen towards the bedroom, then to the bathroom and ending up in the study.

He kept rattling the food like a mantra. Biting back yawn when he glanced at a clock on the wall. 

Newt made his way upstairs to the attic. Dobby enjoyed to hide in places and the attic was dusty and full, so a great place for a kid to sit around. 

Newt kept looking around to only see boxes with his things that were ready to be moved and no sight of his cat. 

Sighing, he went back downstairs, pulling some woolen socks over his feet, before making it to the front door. 

It was bitterly cold now the sun had fully faded away. < Stupid cat. You better be close >

Newt decided to gave up, he was too tired to stand in the cold wind and wait around for Dobby. So instead he left the door open and laid the food just a few inches inside the house. 

If Dobby wanted warmth and security, he'll come around eventually.

The outside aura felt somehow tense and restless around him in contrast of the usual quiet forest. It immediately made Newt frown.

Sighing, he took a blanket from the armchair and pulling it around his shoulders before flopping onto the couch. Deciding to write a little bit more would be for the best before retreating for the night. 

He let himself fall back into the warm cushions and open his Mac. Once again rolling his eyes at his last attempts on writing an end. 

ENDING STUFF. THE END. MONEY NOW PLEASE.

< Bloody brilliant. This is the way to make another best seller, you stupid- >

* one unread message *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Add comments whenever, I love comments


	3. nêl

< who the hell would send a message after 2AM? >

* two unread messages from 'My Phone' *

* pictures downloading * 

Newt frowns at his screen, thinking it might be an annoying glitch, before clicking on the message button on his keyboard.

< who is sending me- >

The moment he opened the message his heart made a back flip in his chest.

His eyes went wide with shock after seeing the attached pictures coming from his own cellphone.

As soon as the pictures loaded sharp enough for Newt to make out what was actually on it, something in his mind clicked. 

Newt recognized himself on the pictures. Frames of himself walking around the house while looking for the cat. 

Pictures of Newt speaking with Minho on Skype. And picture of him sitting and writing on the couch.

His breath caught in his throat. His heart hammered in his chest. 

These were all recent pictures.

Pictures that were taken this very moment.

Newt held his breath. Fingers slippery with sweat as he calculated in his head where the photographer was supposed to be standing now according to the pictures that still got sent in.

< w-who would... Who would do that? > no name popped up in his mind. Not even Thomas or Minho would make a joke like that. 

He closed his eyes. Imagining his living room from an outside perspective and where the person must be standing now.

He turned his head, moving  very slowly towards every window placed in his living room.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized he left the front door wide open. For anyone to come in whenever they wanted. 

Slowly he stood up from the couch.

< No sudden movements Newt. Stay calm >

His blood ran cold as he stepped in line of the door.

In the distance he saw his car, trees and the path Thomas took to get home.

< be quick, go close the d-> When Newt took another step to the left, the bulky figure of a tall fit man came into view. Face masked. Telephone in his hand, waving it teasingly at Newt.

< GO! > Newt yells to himself. Running towards the door as quickly as his legs could carry him. Fear and adrenaline as his fuel. 

The man was walking to the door as well, in less of a hurry, but his steps were confident and he stood closer to the door than Newt seemed to be.

Luckily it was Newt who slammed the door shut and locked it hastily in a matter of seconds. Watching the masked man look him over unimpressed. 

A tattoo of a dark venomous snake curled on the left side of his neck.  
A dark beanie was pulled over his head to cover most of his greasy hair.   
The mask he wore was white with a tight smile carved into it, which made him look more malefic. 

A knife was gripped tightly in his hand and a bow hung over his shoulder.

For not more than two seconds they made eye contact. But the look in the mans eye set enough red flags off in Newt's mind. 

Panic raised through Newt as the man walked a few meters towards the left. To the next open window.

< HURRY NOW NEWT! > He yells to himself as he makes it to the window in time before the masked man could reach it. 

He didn't need to think anymore before following the man and trying to slam the back door closed. 

Newt stumbled over his own feet, scraping his knees over the floor and ruining his pants, and before he made it back up the man already made it there.

Luckily the door was already locked. 

Newt sighed in pure relief. Some more energy boosts go through him as he stands up and made his way towards the window to see the man turning his back on Newt.

< What's going on? > He asked himself while trembling in fear and overshot of adrenaline. < Where is he going? >

Newt tried to follow him with his eyes.

< Better question, who is he.... Maybe it's a joke... A sick and horrible joke... > He wasn't ready to accept that this man could be really dangerous. Not ready to accept that he himself might be in danger where he thought was the most secure place in the world.

The man was hard to follow around and keep in clear eye field, because the man was taking laps around the cabin, as if to inspect where it's weaknesses were hidden. 

His crossbow hung lazily over his left shoulder.

The man seemed distracted for a few moments. Not really paying attention to Newt.

< Do something. This is your chance. NOW! QUICK GO! >

Fast on his feet, Newt returned to the couch. Taking a quick look over the windows to see if the masked man was close. 

But he completely lost sight of him.

With trembling fingers Newt pulled his laptop open. Clicking on the FaceTime app before typing down 911.

< click the bloody button you fucking moron! >

* Connect to a Network to use FaceTime *

When suddenly all the lights fell out.

< no nO NONONONO! > Newt thought. Panicking so much his hands started to pull on his hands. < please please please > he begged the laptop silently. 

The wifi connection shut down. As well as all the electricity. 

He clicked on the wifi options. 

* Wi-Fi: Looking for Networks... *

There were none available. Of course there were no other networks available in the middle of nowhere but his own.

Newt closed his eyes. Biting his lip anxiously. < Think Newt. Please please please think of something >

He looked up again. Only to find the masked man staring straight at him from the front door. 

With the never ending smile on his mask.

They held eye contact for a few moments. The man ticking on the glass window with his knife. Seemed to be content just by looking at Newt.

< Who is he? What does he want from me? >

The mans head cocked to the side. The knife leaving a mark in the window. 

Newt's only source of light was his laptop. One of the only things in the house that wasn't shut down, but proved to be completely useless.

The man slowly stepped away from the window. Emerging far enough for Newt to be unable to see him in the lack of light.

< Oh my God, you're so screwed. He's going to do something >

Slowly standing up from where he was crouching by his laptop. Trying to slow his breathing. < Your options Newt. What are your options now? >

He was shaking all over. Fear piercing through his head. And the small amount of hope that lingered in his heart was shrinking each passing second in his suddenly dark and lonely cabin.

< He has your phone. You have no wifi connection, neither any form of electricity. There is nobody to call out for. Nobody is going to visit you in the upcoming two days. Nobody knows something is wrong->

He bit his lip, walking to the front door to see the masked man walking around the property, probably going through his own options himself. 

< Minho knows something is wrong. If he can't reach me, maybe he'll call the police... > Newt shook his head, knees weak under his own weight. < He'll think you fell asleep... Won't bother me until tomorrow morning >

The masked man had rounded a corner. < Perhaps just make a run for it, Thomas' isn't that far... > his hand slowly reached for the doorknob. < NO you can't! > His thoughts supply. < He has a bow, he can hear you leaving. He'll shoot you >

Newt was pulling at his hair again. < If I can't run WHAT THE HELL SHOULD I DO?! > agonizing panic going through him. 

< Your car you bloody idiot >

Without another second of hesitation, Newt ran into his bedroom to find his bag. Knocking over a vase on his way and almost tripping again over the carpet. 

His palms were sweaty while he threw his bag empty over the bed. He went through his belongings in a matter of seconds before locating his keys. 

Relief shooting through him like a drug. 

With all the adrenaline of the moment, Newt stormed back into the living room. His mind going through his options where to drive towards when he got out of the forest. He should probably warn Thomas, even if staying in the forest made chills run down his spine.

His hands were shaking when he made it to the front door. But it was not relief when he saw his car again.

It was excruciating agony.

The masked man had stuck his thick, sharp knife into the car wheels. Slowly sinking to the forest dirt when all the air left them.

< Fuck >

Masked man stared at Newt. Watching the last little bit of hope leave the boys eyes. His shoulders sagging and shock taking over.

Tears started streaming down Newt's eyes as he slowly started emerging away from the door. Not in the right mind to watch the man continue to sabotage his car.

He pulled his arms around himself. Suddenly feeling really really cold.

< You're going to die if you don't do something > the voice says almost matter of factly.

But he couldn't get himself obey to the voice. 

< NEWT YOU WILL DIE IF YOU DON'T DO SOMETHING NOW >

All he wanted to do is sink to his knees and wait for the masked man to finish what he started quickly. 

To be done with it. 

He was tired and scared.

< What would Minho say, Newt? What would he think if he found your dead pathetic body laying motionless on the ground. A knife stabbed into your heart. And no sign of self defense >

Newt tries to keep himself from sobbing. His throat clamping close. 

< You'll die as a fucking coward. More victims will fall if you don't stop this man or try to >

The man was still standing by the car. His crossbow still hanging over his shoulder. 

< Now stand up. And try to communicate with him. Maybe he wants something of you? >

He stands up, knees hardly holding him as he makes his way back to the bedroom. His stuff was still spread out over the bed, before grabbing a flashlight from his cabinet.

In a matter of seconds he found a thick blue marker and he made his way back to the front door. Crouching down to write a message to the man on the other side on the glass.

'I WONT TELL.   
DIDNT SEE FACE.   
BOYFRIEND WILL BE HOME   
SOON'

Flashing the light to the message. And crouching down a few feet away while trying to get the mans attention. 

His fingers were shaking and his head was unclear. 

When this will be over he'll take a break from everything and go on a long warm vacation. Far away from the forest and the cold, together with Minho on a warm beach.

He refrained himself from gasping at the masked man made a sudden appearance at the door.

The insane smile never faltering from the mask. His eyes playful as if this was a childish game they were playing.

< Stay calm. You're negotiating > He reminds himself cautiously.

The man reads the message quickly. His eyes never faltering. 

When he looked back up at Newt, his hands moved to his head slowly, before non hesitantly removing his beanie from his head. Revealing floppy unwashed dark hair.

And soon after that, the horrid mask follows the beanie by the floor. 

And the devilish smile Newt came to hate was replaced by a more realistic sadistic smirk. Smug with the mans unshaven face and insane eyes.

"Can you read my lips?" The man asks. His body language screaming dominant and strength. 

His fist bumped against the glass. His playfulness replaced by anger.

"Can you?!"

Newt swallowed thickly, deciding to not anger the man further and nodding shakily. Barely holding on the flashlight in his palms.

The man seemed satisfied with the answer. A smirk playing on his lips again.

"You've seen it now, haven't you? My face." 

< Stay calm. He is calm so can you >

"Don't be foolish Newt." The man adds as he goes further down the message written on the glass. "I hope I won't ruin your all alone weekend." 

< He heard you talking with Minho... He knows. He knows too much and you know nothing. You don't understand what's going on. He's playing a game Newt. And you're loosing >

They stare at each other for a long moment. The tears blurring Newt's vision and the panic clouded his mind.

"I can come in any time I want." 

< Did you lock all the doors? Check if you locked all the doors > Newt blinks, staring up at the man. Considering to go check on the doors as soon a he found his strength back.

"And I can get you, any time I want." His smile taking up more than just playfulness. Pleasure even.

Newt follows the mans eyes around the living room. Scanning every window scattered around the place. 

< the glass... He grabs a rock and just breaks the glass. You're done Newt >

"But I'm not going to." The man says. "Not until it's time."

Newt shook his head. < what does that mean? What does this mean? >

"Newt. When you wish you were dead. That's when I'll come inside." 

He was going to throw up. His body working its way to shut down completely. It was too much to take in, too much to realize that he wasn't going to see the sun rising ever again.

Not to see Minho ever again.

"Do you understand me?" 

Newt can't answer. The flashlight rattling in his hands and the tears brimming over.

"Nod if you understand me." He slams his hand on the glass again. The abrupt movement made Newt tremble and nod fiercely immediately.

"Good." The man took his calm back. Clearly in control and practiced in his sadistic game. "Then we're going to have some fun."

They stare at each other again. The man drinking in Newt's tense and frightened state as if he was drowning. There were tears running down his pale cheeks and his knees barely holding him from the ground. 

"Enjoy it." He finished his speech with that, turning his back on Newt and walking down the front steps. Leaving the blond hanging on the last words that fell smoothly from his lips.

< Stay calm. Please stay calm. There is enough trouble without you breaking down. Stay calm >

When the man was out of sight, and another few seconds, Newt slowly got up from his crouch. 

< Calmly. Stand up. Take a deep breath and stay calm >

He did just that. His legs shaking and adrenaline pumping through him. His breathe going faster and faster until he was almost hyperventilating.

< Scenarios. He's bluffing and you will be okay. Try to wait it out > Newt doubted that. He had seen people bluffing and pranking him before because he was thought of weak as a deaf man, but this was not a bluffing man. 

Leaning against a wall to steady himself. 

< He is going to give you a good scare but won't kill you. It's a game and nothing more. But worst case scenario. He will come in. He has weapons and a plan. It's time you have the same >

He considered the idea. Hiding out with some potential weapons. His cabin wasn't big, but he knew it better than anyone. 

But with all the glass windows... there is hardly any place he would be remotely safe.

< Weapons Newt. Now. To the kitchen and prepare yourself >

His legs were unsteady as he made his way to the kitchen. Glancing around the windows to check where the man had moved towards, but once again Newt was too slow and had lost sight of the stalker.

< A knife, the biggest and sharpest one > the voice supplies. His hands examining which knife was the biggest, longest and sharpest.

< This should do the job if needed... > He thought holding the knife close to his body. < Look in the cupboard if you can find anything else useful >

Newt crouched down, glancing at the windows again. No sign of the man, if you didn't count Newt's messed up car.

It was too dark inside to see much of anything. Normally he was glad for his better eye sight than most people, but the struggle was still there while he reached around for anything that could work as a weapon.

He threw as much of the useless stuff on the ground. Scattering the kitchen floor with tools like cleaning products, wasp spray, toilet paper, but also a useful hammer. 

< This will do for now.... Should have taken Gally's advice on having a gun > He thought begrudgingly. < Too late for that now. Find a hiding spot >

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuun


	4. canad

Trying to keep himself hidden from the man, Newt silently made his way to his bedroom. 

It had a few advances for him to stay there; first of all there were two ways out. He could barricade himself in securely, but always have a escape-plan B.   
Secondly, the room only contained one small window with a curtain that was always closed. If the man was going to break the glass, he had only one option and Newt would be prepared.

He had considered changing clothes. His tank top was by now soaked in sweat and too revealing in the cold late autumn night, alongside the heater being shut down. His cotton shorts didn't do much better on keeping him warmed either. 

But the thought of undressing and the man walking in on it was too horrifying to consider again. 

Newt crouched down a few feet away from the window. Watching the barricaded doors and the shadows of the trees outside. Looking into the darkness of the forest wasn't as calming as it had always been before. 

He clutched his improvised weapons in his sweaty palms. Reminding himself that help would come. < Tomorrow morning. Minho would call the police and they will come here and save me. Just survive until the morning. For Minho >

Newt tried to keep that in mind. 

His eyes drooped slightly in exhaustion, before reminding himself what situation he was in. < Sleep will be the end of you. Stay alert >

The hammer was getting heavy. His delicate wrist was starting to protest, but the anxiety didn't allow his body to calm down. His eyes fixed on the door that led to the living room.

For Newt it was never quite silent. The silence from the outside world was painful and a never ending reminder of the mistakes in his past. But in his mind thoughts screamed to him like a banshee.

His thoughts were roaring through his mind. Scenario after scenario going through him. Memories of self defense classes with Minho, useless as always, making him feel hopeless. Thinking of times he had spent with Minho as if to bid him goodbye. 

Suddenly Newt saw a figure appearing by the window. 

The shadow was smaller than the man. And didn't held the crossbow on his back. The figure was knocking on the window to get Newt's attention.

< Could be a trick. Who says he really works alone? Stay alert >

The knocking went more rapid and didn't stop. Signaling desperation or anger. 

Slowly Newt twisted his body towards the window. His sight terrible in the darkness. 

He decides to lean closer. Getting a better look at the intruder.

The hand was still there at the window when Newt was able to see better. And he recognized the sweater as  the one Thomas wore.

Slowly Newt got up from his crouch. Not understanding what Thomas would be doing here at this hour without being sure something was wrong-

When Newt stood on the same eye level as his old friend, he visibly paled. The blood completely drained from his face in a matter of seconds.

Thomas' body was stiff and limp. Neck turned in an unnatural angel. His face matted with blood and dirt. 

The masked man stood proudly behind the corpse. Holding it up and pushing the hand against the glass. His face blank from any emotion.

Thomas was dead. The man- the stalker- the murderer had killed Thomas. 

Realization hit Newt so hard that he nearly lost consciousness. His mind too wired to actually function. < It's not a game. It's not a bluff. You're going to die >

The man was smiling now. Amusement and pure joy playing on his face. In his other hand the man held Thomas' golden necklace. Red with blood.

Newt couldn't wrap his head around it. How the murderer was holding one of his oldest friends like some muppet. Like a trophy. 

It was too much. 

Newt took a few steps back. His back hitting the doorknob painfully. Immediately he dropped his weapons and pushed his barricade over. Needing to leave this room as quickly as possible.

He glanced back once. Seeing the man nuzzling Thomas' pale and dead neck. Not caring about the blood and gore. Waving at Newt as he stumbled from the room.

As a sobbing mess Newt fell to the ground. Slamming the door closed and his knees drawn to his chest.

< This man was a murderer, he is a murderer. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. He killed Tommy. I'm not Tommy. Tommy is softer. Tommy is innocent. If he can kill Tommy he can kill me. He will kill me >

Tears were streaming down his face. His body ached with exhaustion, pain and shock.

< He killed Tommy. Who will tell his parents. Who will tell Gally. I need to tell- I have no phone. I have no way to contact anyone. Nobody will know we died. Nobody will know. We'll rot. We'll- >

Suddenly he stopped shaking. His mind yelling at him to shut up and think. 

< When Thomas came over, what happened? > Newt recalled the memory. Getting a text, him coming over, running to him, hugs, fire alarm- < Go back. What happened when Thomas jogged over? >

He thought back to it. Thomas texting him he was almost there. Sprinting towards him, dropping his phone-

< Exactly. He tucked it into his back pocket remember >

Newt frowned. Looking down at his socket feet. < Distract the murderer and call the police with Thomas' phone >

He glanced around the living room. Trying to think of a way to distract the man without exposing himself to him.

He made his way to the front door. Trying to suppress the fear that shook through his entire body. 

On his knees, Newt crawled closer so he was a few inches away from the door- ignoring the message he had written on it. The car keys laying uselessly on the doormat where he had dropped them. 

He picked it up, glancing from window to window. The murderer not in sight. 

Not wasting the opportunity, Newt grabbed the keys and clicked on the alarm-mode.

The car didn't make a sound he realized after a few moments of not seeing the car lights flash. < fuck fuck fuck > He clicked again, more desperate this time.

< The man will come back! You need to stand closer to the damn thing > Newt glanced around again. One second away from a panic attack. < Open the door. You're not close enough >

He couldn't imagine himself opening the door unseen by the man and getting away with turning on the car alarms, alive. 

< The man will be furious. And you are tired and weak, you better get on with it. This way you will never see Minho again >

Newt cursed himself. Whipping his sweaty palms on his shorts before unlocking the door. As swiftly as possible, and as quietly as he could imagine.

He stepped outside. The air cold and dark. The wind bitter and moaning through the forest.

Newt stretched his arm out desperately to click the alarm button. 

And finally it worked. The car was beeping and flashing light.

< Close the door now, you're vulnerable this way! >

He was quick in his movement. Crawling back on his knees to try to avoid the murderer from spotting him.

He hid behind the couch when he saw the man sprinting towards the car, still flashing and beeping. The vibrations hitting the windows.

< He is scared someone will hear it and come over. Maybe someone will if he doesn't know how to stop it soon enough >

Newt prayed that was the case. Most of his neighbors knew he was deaf, so if some loud noise was waking anyone up they wouldn't expect Newt to deal with it.

He took a deep breath. Making his way back towards the bedroom. Where he stupidly left his weapons and threw over the barricade. As well as some picture frames. 

< No need to be bitchy about that now. The man probably knows how to hot-wire a car, and also how to silence it along the way. Time. Is. Running >

Newt had more fear than adrenaline at this point. Exhaustion aching through his muscles. He needed alcohol and coffee. 

< Stop fucking around >

He stepped forward. Opening the curtains quickly, before shoving the window open. 

Thomas was laying on one of the trash cans. Not moving and red with blood and gore.

It hurt to see his friend like this. It made Newt want to puke and rage at the man who murdered his friend.

Not that he stood a chance. 

Newt reached through the window. Forgotten how small it was, his shoulders barely fitting through it.

< At least the murderer won't make it through either >

His hands made it towards Thomas' back. Newt half hang from the window, his midsection hurting from the frame digging into his stomach.

Thomas' clothes were soaked with blood. Already drying on his pale, cold skin. Newt's hands were wet and sticky while searching the corpse for the cellphone.

It took another ten seconds for Newt to realize < There is no phone in his back pocket >

Newt's throat clamped closed. His eyes watering again with raw emotion. < How could anyone do this? >

With shaking arms he tried to flip the body over, heavy and limp. It seemed impossible in his exhausted panicked state.

< Please Tommy, work with me for once, just turn- FUCK >

Newt's eyes catch the murderer rounding the corner of the cabin. Sprinting towards him on high speed. 

Newt was already climbing back inside, but he wasn't quick enough, which he could tell by the time the man was halfway there.

It was hard to get his shoulders to fit back into the window. It was painful to dig his nails into the window frame to close it, hands too slippery to work otherwise.

Especially now the murderer was trying to keep the window open. His tattooed hand getting caught between it when Newt finally got it to push down.

Newt bit his lip, pushing as hard as he could, using his full body weight. Feeling some of his nails breaking in the act.

< He won't give up. And he is stronger. He will win this. Get a weapon >

He considered it, glancing towards the ground where he left the hammer. < Your only chance >

Swiftly, Newt let go of the window, surprising the man, before grabbing the hammer.

Newt was strangely happy he couldn't hear at that very moment, when he dug the back of the hammer into the mans flesh.

A scream worked its way through the murderers throat. Newt could only see it, while slamming the window shut. Watching the murderer clutch his hand in agony. His scream rattling against the window.

There were curse words as well. Some Newt didn't recognize through the mumbling the man did. 

< You didn't get the phone. At least you didn't die > The voice taunts him. Subconsciously rubbing his blood red hands against his shorts.

Wincing in pain as two or three of his nails were noticeably missing. Tender and painful.

Newt looked up again, seeing the murderer glaring at him. 

< Keep glaring motherfucker. But I'm not loosing yet > Newt glared back. For one moment ignoring the pain and grief. Ignoring the fear of never seeing the sun come up again.

The man narrows his eyes. Something twisting in his expression.

He reached behind himself, taking something from his back pocket. Perhaps a weapon. Maybe he found the keys to the house. Maybe it was-

< It's Tommy's phone >

The man waved it into Newt's face. The screen smashed open and the phone smeared with blood. 

< shit >

All the worked up hope left Newt's body. The adrenaline draining from his system.

The expression on Newt's face was probably what the man had wanted to see. A smile making its way on the murderers face.

"Come on Newt. Where's that bravery now?" 

All of sudden Newt was so incredibly cold. He started to tremble all over.

Tears welling up in his eyes. This man has crushed everything.

Slowly Newt turned around, eyes darting towards the door. He needed to get out of here.

< Need to get out of this Cabin >

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEWT SAVE YOURSELF BEFORE MY WRITER HANDS ARE GOING TO GRAB YOU


	5. leben

Newt couldn't give up yet.

Even if his breath was labored and one second away from hyperventilating. Even if he was so cold his skin felt like a death corpse. 

His body was layered with a cold layer of sweat. Soaking his bloody clothes and making Newt dehydrated. 

< Focus Newt >

But he couldn't. 

Sitting defeated in the hallway. Curtains drawn, luckily. Staring at the walls, scattered with photos.

Newt was trembling, his knees drawn up to his chest and his back against the opposite wall. His fingers aching with pain. Blood dried under his remaining nails.

He was very tired, now he could reflect on it. His body too panicked to shut down, but his mind overwhelmed and useless.

He sighed, looking up at the pictures and their frames. All happy memories from after the surgery. Somethings he never expected to experience ever again in his life. 

Pure perfect happiness.

Of him and Minho after a football- soccer game. Their team champions once again. Frypan had taken the picture, Minho sweeping Newt of his feet to spin him around.

Minho and him on their first date, eating at a horrible French restaurant. Both of them insisting to pay, playfully swatting away each others credit cards.

A picture of Thomas' birthday, even if Newt only came by to hand over a present, seeing Thomas so happy when Gally gave him the necklace was worth horrible crowded parties and bloody apple pie. 

More pictures of Minho and Newt's idiotic cat. 

There were so many pictures of Minho, a lump formed in his throat. Wondering if there were enough body fluids left for him to cry.

Newt sniffled, keeping himself from rubbing his face with his dirty hands. < You'll never see them again >

He mentally thanked the voice for the pep talk. Slowly getting to his feet. < If I want to see Min again, I'll have to bloody do something > He reminds himself solemnly.

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

Newt kept on his knees. Crawling through the living room, unseen by the murderer. 

His knees were angrily red from scraping over the wooden floors. His back aching along with them.

He looked up to see the murderer walking around the property. A little panicked because he had completely lost sight of Newt.

< Take that as your advantage. There is only one way. Get out if this hell >

Newt nodded at himself. Watching the man round the corner of the cabin.

Slowly, but without hesitation Newt opened the front door. 

< He's not here. Get out > He had no shoes on, only his woolen socks, making him completely silent on the old creaking wood of his veranda. 

Newt took a deep breath. Keeping his eyes open and alert. 

On shaking legs he went down the stairs of the veranda. Watching the trees dance in the cold wind. 

He was getting very cold without shoes, a coat, or proper pants. Risking a chance on a cold or the flu. 

< Rather have the flu than ending up as Tommy >

Newt bit his lip to keep himself from breathing too loud. Slowly looking around the corner if the man was still there.

He was, knocking on windows to check where Newt was hanging out. Anger clear in his body language. This man was a brute, and he was getting worked up.

Suddenly he turned to Newt's direction.

< hide >

Quickly he kneels down to hide in the space under the veranda. Trying to be as quiet as possible, while the leaves under him were rustling. Not that he could hear it.

He was crouching, a hand over his mouth to keep quiet as the man rounds the corner. His crossbow hanging over his back and no hesitation as he walks on the steps of the veranda.

Now Newt lost sight of him he couldn't do anything but pray.

< You can't run now. He's too close > He reminds himself. Knees threatening to give out on him as the time stretches. 

He reached his hands up, feeling the mans stride above his hands. The vibration of the wood guiding him. 

Newt waited for the man to walk on the steps again. And rounded the opposite corner now. Knocking on all the windows to get a reaction.

< Wait until he is a little further. You need to get head started >

Newt kept his breathing as calm as he could. Thinking of how happy he will be to see Minho again. What kind of story this would be to tell.

He looked around, not being able to sense where the man was. < This is your chance. Make a run for it >

He may have been in pain. He probably would pay a high price for the injuries he was enduring now, but with the adrenaline and the taste of freedom- Newt got up and ran.

His knees hurt so bad. And his head was spinning painfully. 

But he didn't stop, coming to the edge of his property. < Yes. Ending in sight. Almost free! Almost- >

An arrow landed right in the tree next to Newt's head. Shock went through him as he watched the wood get pierced.

He didn't know what to do now. 

He turned around. Seeing the murder not too far from him, reloading his crossbow, a heavy and slow weapon.

Newt didn't know what to do now. 

< Can't run. Can't attack. Back inside, now >

As fast as his feet could carry him, Newt made a straight line towards his front door. Running with all the spirit he had left within him.

The murderer was hot on his heels, his crossbow reloaded. Fast and unforgiving.

< He is right behind you, run harder. Go faster. For Minho, you will die NEWT RUN FASTER! >

With a audible gasp Newt shut the front door behind him. His full body pushing against it.

In less than a second later, an arrow tried to pierce through the glass. 

The murder calmly walking on the stairs, towards the door. His smile welcome again on his face. 

Watching in amusement as Newt tried to stop hyperventilating. His lungs clamping up, and his body curling up in pain, falling to the floor.

The man laughed, ticking the glass with one of his arrows. Trying to get Newt's attention.

Newt looked up, tears rolling down his cheeks and pain shooting through him. Grief clouding his mind.

The man held eye contact with Newt. Drinking in his horrible state. 

"You better stay, bitch." He warned, pointing the crossbow at Newt threateningly. 

He licked his lips, slinging the crossbow over his shoulder before walking down the stairs again, whistling softly through the cold autumn night.

Newt was left alone once again. Staring out to the front door. 

His knees were dead. His lungs were killing him. His socks soaked with blood from where his feet had stood on rocks and twigs while running. His body so cold it took a new shade of pale.

< You have never been so fucking defeated >

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

It took him a while, at least another twenty minutes, before he was able to stand up again.

He would be a liar if he said it didn't hurt to stand. But another idea had bloomed in his mind. And right now he was willing to try anything.

Newt bit his lip to keep himself from groaning out loud. His feet in so much pain when pressure was on it, but he needed to move.

< sSuffer later. There is no time for bitching now > He thinks dismissively. 

He almost cries because of the pain by the time he gets up the stairs. The tears welling up in his eyes but he tries not to spill them. 

He stands on his toes < Ignore the pain. Ignore it >, opening the window to the roof. Using the flashlight to guide his way. Everything was dark and dusty in the attic.

Newt climbed on the roof, watching if the man wasn't seeing him yet. 

< He's at the other side, now get on with it >

Newt sets the flashlight on its highest level. Going to the very edge of the roof, and threw it as far as he could into the woods.

And as accorded to plan, the murderer immediately leaped up and ran towards the light source. 

< Now get off of this roof >

Newt sighed. Keeping the pain in the back of his mind and scooted towards the front of the cabin. 

His socks were now also soaked from where the rain got caught on the roof. Holes tearing his clothes open as he roughly slides against the roof. 

It was phenomenal he hadn't fallen to the ground yet. His arms could barely hold on the weight of his body, slowly lowering himself down to the roof above his veranda. Ignoring the tingling of the fingers that lost their nails.

His feet hit the roof first. Gasping aguishly as pressure hits the bleeding cuts.

Newt curses himself. < Bloody hell. You're almost there. Hold on for a few seconds longer > He tells himself.

But suddenly- without a single warning, an arrow pierced through Newt's thigh.

It hurt like a son of a bitch. 

He falls down on his back. His spine hitting the roof first which made a chill reach his brain quickly.

Newt couldn't cry out. The pain blinding his vision, his body shutting down and his mind blowing up. 

Never in his life he had been in so much pain before. Never.

< Oh my god. Oh my god. I'm shot. I'm shot. I'm bleeding. There is an arrow in my- I'm shot. I'm dying. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my- >

He rolls on his side. Going on pure instinct and adrenaline as he pulls the arrow out of his thigh, his mind wasn't even supplying anything that he could do differently. 

He ignored the blood gushing from the wound. Throwing the arrow from the roof. 

 

Newt let's the tears fall, leaning over the edge of the roof to see the man who will kill him, the man who shot him.

What Newt didn't expect to see what the man trying to climb the roof.

< He's going to end the game, he is going to win the game. Do something. Think of something >

Newt trembles. It was so horribly cold. 

He didn't want to die on a rooftop, cold and alone.

< Minho... > The things he would do to see Minho now, to lay in his arms and die in his sleep. Not blinded by pain, but blinded in love. 

Minho would do that. He would be quiet and hold Newt, stroke his hair and write on his skin how much he loves Newt.

Minho will dream of Newt tonight, Newt decided solemnly. He will come to him after leaving this body. Finally talking to Minho, telling him goodbye.

< You can't give up. The murderer is coming, you need to hide >

Newt scoffs at himself. He can hardly wait to end this nightmare. Leave the world behind him. He couldn't do this for much longer.

< But you can win this game. Roll over. Catch the murderer by surprise >

Newt sighed, his head spinning as he rolls onto his belly. His body screaming at him what the fuck was he doing.

The murderer was almost on the roof. Throwing his heavy crossbow over the edge before climbing over it himself.

< This is your chance > He tells himself. Grabbing the crossbow in his arms.

It hurt so baldy to sit up, smacking the flabbergasted murderer with the back of his own bow. 

The punch wasn't very fast, but it was hard enough for the man to loose his grip and fall al the way down with a shout.

Newt didn't waste another second. Almost loosing his footing while climbing back into the nearest window he could find. Leaving behind a trail of blood. 

He almost made it, throwing the crossbow into the house first. The weapon impossibly heavy for his lanky arms.

And then he climbed in himself. The window small and square, he barely fit through.

Falling hard on the ground. A echo of never ending pain going through his thigh. 

He ignored it in favor of closing the window quickly. Not in any position to fight the man if he climbed back on the roof to get Newt.

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoaaa almost died there lmao


	6. eneg

Newt allowed himself to sob the moment he made it to the bathroom.

It all came to him in a rush. The pain under his feet, the stab in his thigh and the throbbing ache through his spine.

Unstoppable tears blurred his vision, falling weakly against the cold floor. 

< Wrap yourself up, Newt>

He scoffed at himself. Wondering if the voice even knew half of the pain Newt was feeling now. The blood oozing out of the wound.

< You'll bleed out asshole. Wrap your thigh up tightly. Stop the bleeding >

Newt rolled onto his side, minding his ever aching back, and opening the cabinet. Blindly reaching around for some bandage and alcohol.

Finally he got a hold of it and dragged it towards himself. Ignoring the blood stains on his hands.

He first opened the bottle of alcohol. < This is going to hurt like a bitch > Newt tells himself. Putting one of his dirty towels in his mouth to prevent himself from screaming the murderer right towards his location.

Taking a deep breath. Calming himself down as much as possible. He tilted the bottle as gently and slowly as he could.

When the first drip hits his wound tears sprang up in his eyes and a groan left his lips. 

His body spasmed backwards, hitting de back of his heads against the bathtub. < Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck > a bruise forming on the back of his head. 

Newt howls in pain again when he continued tending his wounds. The alcohol burning so much he felt as if his skin was going to tear down from his bones.

He cried some more. Waiting for most of the stinging to go down before continuing the ministrations.

The blood was oozing out of the wound like nothing he had ever seen outside of movies. His hands wet with the red substance. A metallic taste in his mouth.

He squeezes his eyes closed. Making sure the wound wasn't infected, before binding it with the bandage.

< It needs to stop bleeding. I doubt you will make it till the morning if it doesn't stop bleeding >

Newt sits upright. Exhaustion clinging to his consciousness like never before. The world spinning in front of his eyes before settling.

He slowly bents over. Tracing his bruised knees with his filthy hands. Slowly making his way to his feet.

< I can only imagine the damage you caused there... >

He slowly takes off his socks. The soles of his feet stinging in the act. He hisses loudly, pumping his first on the floor five times to get himself together. 

< Calm down. You need to make sure there are no infections >

Newt complies, looking at his damaged feet. Mud mixed with blood clinging to the skin. Wool of the socks matted to the cuts. Some areas taking a odd color in addition of the cold outside and inside the house.

< Get on with it. Before you start puking all over your own feet >

Newt closes his eyes, rubbing some alcohol over the cuts and bruises. His toes curling in pain and agony. His stomach doubling over. 

It didn't take long before he bound his feet as well. Pulling his socks back on before he got too cold. 

He was trembling, falling back unto his side in relief of his body.

From this angle he had a good view of the door, and one of the four windows. His mind was growing as tired as his body, Newt noticed as the voice wasn't as overly loud anymore.

Hardly even present.

Newt rolled to over a bit more, keeping the weight off of his thigh before throwing up.

< I'm quite surprised you kept that in so long >

He kept wrenching all over the floor. Whatever of the energy the pizza from last night was left within him, had now left his system.

Newt moaned when he was done. Using the dirty towel to whip his mouth clean. Ignoring the blood stains.

< You need to eat something. You need to drink something. Get some energy back Newt > That sounded a awfully lot like Minho, instead of the aggravated voice that usually accompanied- taunted him. < You're still bleeding, and dehydrated. You need some water, Newt. Figure out that mans weapon, defend yourself >

Newt groans as he sits up against the bathtub, minding the bruise on his head, reaching to his left and dragging the heavy crossbow within his reach. 

He first examined it. Flipping it to all the sides and counting the arrows. 

On one side a snake was carved into the weapon. Similar to the one on the murderers neck. But on the other side were stripes carved down. 

< One for each person he murdered, I guess> The bitchy voice was back. Making Newt roll his eyes. < -And if you don't start listening, you will be one of those as well >

He sighed, flipping over the weapon once again, taking it into his lap and gabbing a arrow.

< Just put the arrow in and try to shoot the door >

Newt's hands were still shaking. His vision was blurry. His stomach was empty. And his thigh was still bleeding, soaking through the bandage.

Inserting the arrow went with so much difficulties he nearly forgot the smell of his own vomit.

It seemed such a simple weapon at first. 

When he finally got the arrow in place, he needed to put tension on the string.

This proved to be so difficult, his hands got caught in between, his fingers cut open and his hands bleeding because of its force.

He cursed everything and everyone on earth every time the string fired back and didn't get installed right.

He was crying in frustration and not acting reasonably anymore. 

But Newt didn't give up. His body shaking and his face red with frustration. It didn't matter, he had to master this weapon to kill the murderer from a far distance.

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

Gally grumbled tiredly as the cold wind gushed through the forest. His jacket protecting him from being fully seeped through with cold. 

His body was stiff and slow as his feet marked the forest grounds and rustled leafs. His senses wide awake.

When he finally approached Newt's house, he walked towards the kitchen window, where Newt would often sit and drink together with guests or alone. With his fist he knocked loudly against it. Patience run out after four in the morning. The glass shaking under his force.

"Thomas!" He called out. Knocking loudly again. "Thomas!"

There was no response and also no lights, while Newt was known for staying up late, that didn't mean he'd be awake after four in the morning to greet his neighbor for some coffee. 

Gally could kill someone for some of Newt's coffee though. 

He rolled his eyes when no response came.Walking to the front door with heavy feet and tiredness clinging to his mind. 

Gally knocked once again heavily on the glass. "Thomas!" Before trying to open the door, rattling the doorknob with numb fingers, but it was locked. "Ain't that just fucking-"

A flash of words were displayed on the lower half of the door. He frowned, sinking to his knees slowly and taking three steps back to inspect what was wrong. A text written down on the glass. In Newt's handwriting.

'I WONT TELL.   
DIDNT SEE FACE.   
BOYFRIEND WILL BE HOME   
SOON'

"Fucking hell?" He muttered, taking his phone from his pocket immediately. Dialing 91-

"FREEZE! ON THE GROUND!" Suddenly a man stepped up from the corner of the house. A flashlight in his hands and a hoodie hiding half of his features.

Gally was too perplexed from the sudden noise and movement that he didn't move at all.

"I SAID DOWN! TO THE GROUND! DROP YOUR WEAPON!" The man yells, walking up the veranda, looking shaky and bruised.

Gally frowns, putting his hands up immediately. He couldn't afford troubles with authorities so soon after the last time he got in trouble.  

"Calm down." He says to the unexperienced cop, at least looked unexperienced. "I ain't got no weapon." He grumbles, steadily gazing up at  the man and watching him approach with raised eyebrows.

"I WANT TO SEE YOUR HANDS."

Gally scoffs. "This is a fucking phone man, welcome in the 21t century. Calm the fuck down, I'm friends with the owner of the house."

The mans hoodie slides down, revealing a amateur tattoo of a snake rounding his neck. "Put your phone down sir, I don't want any trouble."

"I'm Gally." He nearly whines out in annoyance. "One of the neighbors. Calm down, jesus." The flash light hurting his eyelids as the man doesn't back down.

The man scans him over, as if to see if he could take Gally down alone. But Gally doubted it. 

He was stronger and taller, better kept and stronger build. While the man seemed to be a lost homeless, with an unkept beard on his face and ratty clothes. 

"On your knees." He says.

Gally rolls his eyes, sinking down to a crouch. "Okay man, take a fucking break. I only came here looking for my boyfriend."

The man frowns, still pointing the flash at him. "Show me some ID."

This was one of the reasons why Gally hated authorities so much. "In my walled. In my back pocket."

"I want to see your hands sir!" The man yells threateningly. 

"I'm just going for my fucking walled. Take it easy!" He yells back, frustratingly. Putting his phone down in front of him and fishing out his wallet.

The man frowns back at him, but lets Gally toss over his wallet. 

Gally puts his hands back up, still in his crouch while the man was looking for his ID.

"You live next door?"

Gally sighs, putting his hands down slowly. "Yes sir." He answers mockingly.

The man dived back into his wallet. "Okay." 

He started to chuckle, a friendly smile on his face as he lowers his flashlight. The wallet still in his hands. "I'm sorry to scare you." 

Gally slowly got up, clutching his phone in his hands. "Whatever dude."

The man keeps smiling, something off about it. "We're good now, right?"

Gally didn't take that shit. "What the fuck happened here? What the hell is going on?"

The man hesitates. "I don't know, err, Gally. I responded to a call." A sincere look on his face. "I got here and this place looked like this, nobody inside." 

Gally frowned, looking back into the house. Seeing no movement or any sign of life except for the message. And an arrow pierced into the front door.

"A man ran towards me and knocked me out. I woke up without my phone, weapon or radio." 

Gally scoffed at the poorly trained authorities of today. "Sucks."

The man nods, not seeming to get the sarcasm. "I need to call for back up. Do you know who lives here?"

Gally nods. "It's Newt. His boyfriend called me and said they lost contact and asked me to check up. My boyfriend should be here too." 

The police officer seems to think about it. "So he lived alone?"

"Yes, my boyfriend and I come over some times. I thought-"

"What's his name?"

Gally frowns. "Thomas. His name is Thomas." What the fuck was this mans deal?

The man nods solemnly. "Okay, Gally, can I use your phone?"

Gally hesitated for a moment before handing it over reluctantly. "You should'a know better than going around here alone at night."

The man laughs tightly. Dialing a number. "I'm the new deputy. Newbies, you know." Before taking the phone to his ear and not intending to go further on the subject.

Tensely he took a few steps back from Gally, creating a great amount of space between them. As if wanting a head start if he had to run.

"Hello? I'm here on Fairhope 811 with a 7-19 with trace of robbery and suspect is walking free."

Gally turned back to look into the woods. Maybe the two had gone into the city in fear of the robber.

That still didn't explain the message or why either of them hadn't told Gally or Minho what was going on. 

"Nobody else here right now, only one of the neighbors came just a moment ago." The man keeps speaking. Loud and uncaring for the peace in the woods.

Probably not a local.

"Yes, I will.... Bye." 

Gally turned back towards the house, crossing his arms. "Did you see that?" He asks the deputy. Gesturing towards the message.

The man crouches down. Frowning slightly while flashing his light towards the text.

'I WONT TELL.   
DIDNT SEE FACE.   
BOYFRIEND WILL BE HOME   
SOON'

"Odd..." He just says, tugging the flashlight back into his pocket. 

Gally thinks so as well. Nose flaring up as the stench of the man hits his nose. 

The man was odd. Very weird. He analyzed, Watching the man closely.

He was fidgeting, looking nervous even. He was no cop. Not in a million years.

Gally had a great sense of character.

"So this Newt guy, he has a boyfriend or something." Odd question. The man wa slipping, making stupid mistakes.

Gally doesn't look at the man anymore. Making sure he stood balanced on both feet and ready for attack. An animal steady to pounce. 

"Yes." He says curtly. "They're moving in together soon." He decides upon, the most neutral response he could think of. Not wanting to sound too hostile now and make this man do something he regrets.

The deputy, at least how he titled himself, tries to make eye contact again. The snake in his neck looking dirty with a red substance that Gally could only place as blood.

"Any family around? Someone with keys who could come in?" 

Gally shook his head. "Thomas had keys, but he left them somewhere, I wouldn't know. Newt Likes to be by himself as much as possible."

The deputy nods. His arm angled awkwardly in his pocket. 

"What's with your arm?" Gally asks immediately. Frowning even deeper as the man next to him starts sweating nervously and has to whip his face with a bloody, bruised hand.

"Noting to worry about, the thief threw me onto the ground, it's nothing." He rasps out, spitting some saliva down to the ground.

Gally starts to suspect there was something really wrong with this guy. Besides being a total creep.

"He was a big guy you know." The other man says suddenly. "Someone of your size, a real sportsman. A linebacker even. A- a... scary guy." 

Gally started to wonder when this game would be over. A chill running through his spine. 

"Give it back." Gally demands, pointing at his phone, which the man still squeezed tightly between his elbow and side.

The man seemed to hesitate to give it back. The wheels in his brain spinning. 

"Of course, sorry, just- force of habit." 

He takes a few hasty steps towards Gally, glancing towards the house occasionally. And unceremoniously dropping the phone in Gally's hand. Taking a few shuffled quick steps back.

With the swift motion, twitching of the mans jacket, a golden necklace falls from his pocket. 

The deputy seems not to have noticed it slipping onto the veranda.

But Gally did. And he recognized it immediately.

Anger flared his mind. The blood rushing through his veins with violence and adrenaline mixed.

His nostrils flared up and his face reddened with the amount of sheer aggression he felt going through his body in a matter of a single second.

"You said you responded from a call. Was that from Newt?" Gally demands, voice loud and booming in the forest. Taking a step closer. Slowly circling the man.

The man got the signal something was wrong. His shoulder tensing and body shrinking in.

"Dispatcher." 

He sniffled. Snot nosed and whipping it clean with his sleeve. 

"We got a call and I just went in, it was a citizen." He Immediately added eyes never leaving Gally.

"Because you know what. He couldn't have made that call. Been deaf and mute for over a fucking decade now." His voice roared angrily. Bumping his fists against his thighs, warming them up for a good hard punch. "Your shit ass police station didn't tell you that shit before sending you here? They're well known with him."

The man gulped audibly. 

"Your boyfriend, Thomas, would probably have made the call then."

Gally glared. The name of his partner sounded like poison on the mans lips.

He could only do that much now, thinking of what this man what the man could possibly have done with Thomas. 

He was ready to fight for him.

"So... deaf you said, sounds rough. Very hard." 

Gally nodded. Still slowly circling the man, noticing they already twisted a full lap around each other. "A brain infection. Fucked up doctor. You know, the government takes everyone these days." 

The man takes another step back.

"Well, he lives alone. He should be doing fine." 

Gally was ready to choke the air out of this mans lungs.

An idea toppled over his mind- his hands going flat to his sides. His eyes dark with something he never felt before. His heart black with the thought of this mans hands on Thomas.

But luckily, His anger had not yet masked his intelligence.

"You know what, mister deputy." He says the name as filthy as he thinks it is. "I believe he left a spare key in the flower pot." Pointing at one just a few feet away from the veranda.

The man seems to harden. The circling stopped and the playful look in his eyes died away.

"Wouldn't that be just... terrific."

Gally nods, a sadistic smile on his face. "Well, Mister Deputy. Go and get it."

The man seems to hesitate to turn his back on Gally. Taking his flash light out and stepping down the veranda. From the steps.

"I wouldn't be too worried though." The man says while reaching towards one of the pots. "They probably just ran when they got scared. Towards the city or the main road."

Gally nods. Not satisfied with the answer. And not taking it as one either.

He had a weird taste into his mouth. Glancing over the property, and even in the dark, Newt's huge silver car caught his attention. He glared at the vehicle, towards the dark trees and dirt. "Someone trashed his car pretty well."

They wouldn't have gone towards the city without a car, Maybe Thomas would, but Newt was smarter than that.

Something had happened to them, and it may have ended fatal.

"Yeah. Looks bad." 

Slowly, Gally reached towards one of Newt's flower pots. Filled with stones and dirt.

He took one particularly big stone into his hand. Gripping it tightly and hiding it casually behind his back, while the so called deputy was still searching for the key.

Slowly he made his way towards the man. His step steady, arms tense.

"How long before the other cops arrive?" He asks dryly, barely keeping the anger from his voice and slinging the stone towards the man too early. He had to contain himself.

"Ten, fifteen minutes, I guess." His hands dirty from searching through the pots, mud sticking under his finger nails. "I'm happy you got here so fast. Could have been stuck here all night." 

Gally snarled, a bite in his voice as he gritted out. "I'm glad I came by." Taking comfort in the hard, big, stone settled secure in his hand.

There was a long pause.

The deputy had stopped searching for a few moments, scanning Gally down as he slowly approached the smaller, stinking man.

"In here, you said?" Holding his dirty hands up. Not finding a spare key.

Gally took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his heart beat and the thoughts raising through his mind. "Yeah, as far as I know. Last time he told me-"

Suddenly loud banging comes from the kitchen window. Gally immediately twisted his head to glance at what had interrupted the silence.

Newt was standing there, injured, bloody and exhausted. Banging his hands against the glass. Panic in his eyes.

Gally leaped into attack mode, and just as he reached his arm out to throw the stone hard and straight against the deputy's head-

Something cold and solid jabbed into his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOAAA GALLY WTF U DOING HERE
> 
> And jupp bye gally


	7. odog

Gally didn't scream. 

Instead, his eyes followed the man who stabbed him, once and hard in the neck, as the deputy got up a few feet away from him. 

His hand slowly reached for his neck, feeling the blood gush out like a fountain. His hands reddened immediately. A metallic taste in his mouth.

Newt was still bumping his hands against the door, his arms shaking and tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Gally glanced between the stabber and Newt. His eyes slipping in and out of focus. 

"Calm down, big guy." The deputy smiles, flashlight nearly blinding Gally. "Take it easy."

Gally took a few steps towards the man, almost loosing his footing on the unsolid ground. 

As if to tame a wild dog, the man smiles at him. His tone low and calm. "Take it easy man, it's over. Face it, you're done."

Gally stumbled, legs nearly giving out on him as he leaped forward towards the stabber. 

He was weak and could feel the pull towards unconsciousness, but he didn't stop fighting. Didn't fall over. Not until he was finished with this man- With this murderer.

"It's done. You're done." The deputy jumped to the side as Gally raised a fist to punch the mans face. Missing by just a few inches.

The man ducked down and stabbed Gally in the thigh from behind.

"Come on, Man. You're game over." He snarled, psychotic smile fading as Gally toppled over. His face connecting sideways to the ground. 

Newt was still bumping against the glass, helpless and weakened. Trying to get the murderers attention, distracting him from killing another friend again.

But it didn't work, the murderer was completely focused on his new victim. Bleeding out fast, unable to get back on his feet again.

"I figured I wouldn't stand a chance in a man to man fight with you. A man your size, against a man like me. It's about timing." Now he was the one to circle Gally. His feet fast and his eyes fierce with something sadistic.

"You're just-" dodging an arm Gally reached out to grab him with a slight jump backwards. "So damn big." 

Gally crawled towards him again, groans and moans leaving his throat in so much pain that he almost lost consciousness. 

The murderer felt something inside spark up at the sight of someone so desperate and so alone.

"I'm happy Newt over there came out when he did," Smiling at the sobbing Newt behind the glass. "Thank you, by the way."

Newt cried even harder as Gally slowly went down towards the forest grounds. His hands giving out and the blood pooling beside his face.

And slowly, the groans subsided into the nothing. Only a few soft whimpers of pain and jerks from Gally's body. Showing he was not dead yet.

The murder smiled delighted at the sight, maybe this was the very best part. When the victim knew it was all over and there was no way to turn it all back.

"It's okay." He whispers. Sinking down to a crouch. "It's all right, sshh. Almost over now." His hand slowly reaching out to touch the still warm and red blood that gathered faster and faster next to Gally's head. 

His smile grew even wider when the cold body stopped jerking completely. "You can let go now. It's all ri-"

Suddenly Gally got up to his feet. And immediately threw the other man to the ground. A battle shout ripping through the cold night. 

His fist jammed into the mans face. Dumping him on the ground and falling on top of him. 

Gally groaned in pain, using his full body weight to keep the man down. His hands went to the mans tattooed neck and started to choke the life out of him, weak with the loss of blood. But more spirited than ever before.

The murderer didn't hesitate to returned the favor, rolling them over  easily and starting to pull his arms around Gally's neck as well.

Everything felt so surreal for a moment, as if Gally would wake up in Thomas' arms again tomorrow and will only remember this all as a nasty, long lasting dream. 

Slowly he glanced over towards the cabin, his eyes drowsy and black dots appearing in his vision.

Newt stood there. Eyes wide and breath caught in his throat. The bow and arrow secure in his hands. < He can't die. Not now. Not Gally >

He reached down to reload the bow. His fingers still bleeding and tears blurring his vision.   
< You can't let another friend die, you can't do this to someone else as well. You pathetic little- >

Newt glanced back at Gally desperately. The bow and arrows still heavy in his arms.

"Sorry." He mouthed at him, lips dry and blood everywhere. "Gally." 

Gally looked at him with an almost sincere smile, his arms still wrapped around the murderers neck. Nodding solemnly at him and mouthing back. 

"Run." 

Newt almost shook his head, because he couldn't just run. 

< But now the man is distracted, two against one. You should be able to win. If you weren't such a horrible weak uncaring bitch >

He bumped his hands against the door again. Looking lost and frightened. 

< Won't make it. Won't make it. Won't make it >

Gally nods at him again, as if seeing his inner struggle. He was sure Newt could make it, even if he didn't know about any of the injuries the other man sported.

"Run."

Newt stepped away from the glass as Gally stopped glancing at him, and started to stare upwards to the dark sky.

Bright stars shone high above him. Hypnotizing him and lulling him away into a deep warm sleep.

Slowly, Gally stopped jerking. His face purple with the lack of oxygen. His eyes empty of his fierce personality.

And he slowly let himself slip away into the darkness. Letting the pull take him out, for he had done what he could. And he was ready to say goodbye now.

 

Newt covered his mouth with his hand. Throwing the crossbow down to the ground.

< You can't you can't you can't DO THIS! YOU WONT MAKE IT >

Newt ignored the voice. Gally's cold and empty eyes showing the way towards the front door.

He stumbled in his step. Feet still ripped open with cuts and the wound in his thigh still bleeding heavily. 

He squeezed his eyes shut as he marched towards his freedom, with any luck Gally had killed the murderer as well. Or at least left him unconscious.

< STOP RIGHT NOW >

Newt felt a shiver running down his spine as he made it towards the front door.

But the murderer was nowhere in sight.

He took a few deep breathes. His eyes rapidly searching for any signs of movement, but he couldn't detect anything in the cold and darkness.

Without another moment of hesitation he twisted the lock open and ran outside. Not that he was very fast.

His stumble was slow as he half dragged himself over the leafs and dirt. 

His bandaged feet ripped open all over again and his thigh seeped out more blood. 

He hardly made a few meters before something hard and solid graced the side of his face.

Newt fell to the ground immediately. His legs giving out and his skull cracking as the ground collided with it.

He moaned in pain, curling up into himself immediately.

The murderer wasn't far away now, smiling down at Newt as he struggled to get up to no result.

His eyes were swimming in tears. Unable to contain himself from grieving for his own ending.

The killer was standing above him now. Taking in how horrible Newt looked in his final moments.

He'll never see Minho again. See him smile. See him run. 

They will never get married and live together. Adobt a beautiful baby. 

Or even see the sun come up again.

He was taken back to reality as the murderer grabbed the stone again and smashed into Newt's face all over again. 

This time almost nothing came to Newt anymore. Chocking on his own blood and what was left of his smashed bones.

He didn't feel anything, oddly. He could imagine the pain, but nothing was into focus anymore.

He didn't let out a sound as the man kept bringing the stone down towards his face, over and over again. As if he wasn't even the one experiencing the attack.

As if he was watching from a distance. Slowly seeing his face turn into a unrecognizable puddle of gore.

His body stopped jerking, and his face fell to the side limply.

Now he noticed the murderer was straddling his waste, looking down at his art work with a pride Newt felt disgusted for.

< You can't run >

Newt blinked rapidly. 

He jerked up from where he was heavily leaning against the door, watching Gally's body laying motionless on the ground.

Newt rubbed his eyes vividly. Seeing nothing else but his friend laying outside.

Not himself.

< That will be the scenario if you step outside. Will you listen now?! >

Newt started to sob again, relief shooting through him like a drug. 

He had seen himself die and wasn't planning on letting that happen again.

He let go of the doorknob slowly.

Tears started streaming down his face as he stumbled back further inside the house. His body rigid with anxiety and claustrophobia.

He sunk down to the ground. Sitting cross legged and focused on the pictures across the wall. 

He took a moment to regain his breath. Trying not to think about his dead friends laying outside his cabin somewhere.

Not thinking of his unmissable injuries and the cold seeping to the core of his bones

Not thinking of his own approaching faith either. 

< You've gotten nowhere so far. It's time you listen now >

Newt felt like he had already listened often enough, but it had never helped his case, not on the long term either way.

He puts his head in his hands. Rubbing at his temples and letting all the information seep in. 

< You have to look at this from an outside perspective. As if you're living someone else's story >

Newt thought back of how he watched himself get smashed in the head. The cold still running through his spine. And he was scared.

Never he had seen something so incredibly shaking as watching himself die, slowly and painfully.

< But it saved you. You need to get saved > He reminded himself. Almost wondering why he needed saving again. Why he would want to continue this story?

He didn't even have to glance at the pictures to know exactly why.

< Minho >

Newt shivered at the name, as if he hadn't mentioned it in a million years.

It felt like it had been a million year since he had seen him. He needed him. And he wanted him here so badly. Together they would have made it.

But alone...

< Look, with that leg, you aren't fast > Newt glanced at his thigh swollen and red with blood. < And neither you'd get far >

He had to agree on that. He hardly made it from the kitchen to the front door. 

< That crossbow would have been handy. But you can't shoot. Nothing will stop him besides for the heart or the lungs, anything else won't work. But you can't shoot >

The thoughts start to race through his head. Three different voices screeching at him all the same time, all different plans and scenarios.

< You won't get far, can't outrun him- perfect shot- WONT WORK CANT SHOOT- long distance weapon. Useless indoors. Can't shoot. Can't shoot. CAN'T SHOOT. Won't run. Die. Die. Die- SHOOT- die die- >

Newt bumps both hands against the ground. Pain ripping through his bones, but he didn't care. The screams became whispers and only one solid voice was left.

< Your weapon is of no use inside, but with your aim you won't kill him if he isn't up close. He will be moving. And you need to be close. No experience at all, can't even reload the weapon >

Newt already ruled the idea out. His teeth clenching as his head ached with the effort of thinking of a new idea.

< Go outside > He shakes his head immediately at the new voice. One he had heard before. < Go outside and put the power back on. It's at the back. He won't see a thing- >

Newt shook his head. Not going outside. Not in a million years. 

Imagining himself going through the back window. Climbing out and reaching for the power storage, but noticing that wires were missing and ripped beyond repair. And before he'd register it the man would slit his throat from behind.

Not a good plan.

< Hide yourself > another voice says, and one agreeing as well. < Go hide somewhere in the house, don't leave. That's unsafe >

Minho's voice buds in, scoffing at the other voices. < Too many windows. Best hiding place would be the loft. And there are enough windows there. All he needs is a stone and you know he has one >

Newt agrees fully. Hiding wouldn't work either. How long could he withhold this. 

< And best case scenario, if he won't find you, you'll bleed to death > a picture of him lying motionless in the bathtub, skin pale and lips purple with the coolness of a bloodless body.

< CRAWL SPACE! > a child's voice shrieks out of nowhere towards the others. < You fit in there, it's narrow, but you do. He won't look there, probably >

< Already tried that, and he knows I went there. I won't go outside. I won't > He says solemnly. 

< If he figures out you're there- it's a small space, you can't move. If he figures out you're there. If he does- you won't last long >

Newt thinks that voice may be the one whose got the scenario right, but didn't come up with any solutions either. 

It pained Newt to think he won't make it through the night, not the way the situation eyed now.

Minho is back again, voice gentle and fierce this time. < You're cold, dizzy and you're sweating > The determination in his voice grew with each passing word.  < Your nails are turning blue, the ones that are left anyway. And your vision is getting worse. We are running. Out. Of. Time >

And now, now the well known familiar voice came back again. The one that has always been there to haunt him. Work him through each and every day again.

< How long before you can't walk or can't see anymore?! Newt, have you thought of that?! Sooner or later he is coming in here and he knows you're bleeding and weak. Once he is in this house YOU ARE OVER. He is BIGGER, STRONGER and FASTER >

Newt pulled his arms around his knees, his tears had stopped running and his face was dry and cold. 

< He has all the advantage, Newt > It haunts him. < He can hear you > the voice snarls. 

Newt rethinks each and ever option he was given. 

He can't run, he can't hide, he can't wait, he can't go outside-

Thinking of himself being stabbed and smashed into the head. Bled out in the bathtub, or cold upstairs in the loft.

Chocked in the arms of the murderer. Straddled and laughed down upon.

< Too many endings > the voice almost whistles. < And they still all end the same >

Newt nods. Thinking along. The voice opening parts of his mind he'd never entered before. Covering as much information as possible and coming up with a strategy.

< That means, there is only one ending he won't expect >

Slowly Newt glances from side to side, checking if he really still was alone, for the empty loneliness he had felt before had disappeared and once again hope had taken place of it.

< You can't run, hide or wait. Tell me Newt, what does that leave? >

Newt gulped audibly. His eyes wide and determent.

/ Kill him \

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes plz Newt kill him before he kills u thnx


	8. tolodh

Randall sighs as he sits down onto the forest grounds. His jeans immediately wet and sticky with fallen leaves.

He watches over Gally's pale cold body, a smile forming on his face. 

He did very well today. And it wasn't even the end yet.

"I never would have won that fight." He think out loud, leaning over to see if Gally had anything of worth on him.

First of he got his watch, and his phone. Pocketing it away safely, before he found a packet of cigarettes. "Come on Gally, these things could kill ya, you know." 

He huffs in amusement of his own joke. Taking one out of the package and lighting it up. Standing up to lean against Newt's car hood. 

Newt wasn't the only one that'd gotten injured over the night. He was getting tired and he needed to tend to his wounds.

Calming his mind with deep breathes of rich smoke, Randall began to think. Still looking at Gally's lifeless pale body.

"What do ya think, ol' Gally. Should I go inside?" He takes the cigarette from his lips. Breathing in some fresh air, before continuing. 

He imagines the big guy speaking back at him. Telling him how Newt would have figured another plan and was hyped with adrenaline. Still a hard target without his bow, Randall wasn't in much bigger benefits.

"You're probably right, should wait till he's lost some more blood." He says absently. Wondering is there might me wild animals in the forest that could eat some of Gally's corpse and present it to Newt later. Make him see how he had rotten his friend because he was too scared and hurt to go outside and have a real man to man fight with Randall.

Suddenly, a fluffy little cat appears from under the car. Meowing tentatively as he got into Randall's view.

"Oh, hey there." He smiles, leaning down to get to cat closer to him. Putting the cigarette out on the ground.

The cat complied, friendly and quietly waiting for the huge man to feed or pet her, a needy little kitten.

"Is this your house, kitty?" Randall asks, his gloved hands running over her fur. "Does your mommy live there?" 

He took the collar around the cats neck and checked the name. "Dobby - Newt's cat" followed by a phone number and address. 

"Welcome home, Dobby." He whispers reassuringly. Slowly taking the knife from his pocket, not to startle the cat away. "You're gonna see mommy soon." 

Or Newt was gonna see Dobby nailed to the front door-

In the heat of the moment, something sharp and fast suddenly pierced him in the shoulder. 

"FUCK!" He cried out. The knife falling from his fingers and the cat fleeing away with a snarl. 

When he looked up, Newt stood there, bow raised and outside his cabin. Close enough to have actually hit Randall.

He watched nervously as the murderer came to a realization he was shot with his own weapon, and started to leap up towards Newt.

< Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Now go run back inside! >

Newt didn't hesitate to scramble back as quickly as he could. The bow securely held in his hand as he turned his back towards the killer and made his way back inside.

< Close the door. Newt. CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR NOW >

Newt could imagine he might have cried out as he stumbled over his own feet. His face hitting the floor hard enough to trigger a blood nose. 

Immediately his sight got blurry and his legs felt numb.

< Keep moving Newt. You can't just lay there and wait for him to attack you >

He hadn't stopped moving, even without the hearing voice yelling at him, he knew the killer was close. 

Close enough to feel the wood of the veranda shake under his steps.

< Just get out of here. Please get out of here >

Newt crawled the rest of the way. Intending to bang the door closed- But the man stood right there. Pushing to get the door to open. Screaming and cursing at Newt, but he was startled and weak from the shot in his shoulder. 

And just as Newt got the door closed almost all the way, almost closing the murderer out-

His hand got stuck. 

The killer seemed to notice at the exact same moment Newt did, and immediately stopped pulling the door open to instead push it closed to crush Newt's hand between it.

< This can't be happening. This can't be. How how HOW?! >

Newt couldn't believe the plan could have gone so wrong. Laying on the ground, cold and tired, he was rethinking all of his choices. 

< Shouldn't have gone outside, shouldn't have challenged him >

His wrist was on fire. He could feel something twisting and breaking under the pressure and force of the murderers hands and the door.

He kept trying to pull it back in all his might, but it was stuck at the most delicate spot, and whenever he pulled he felt joints cracking and twisting.

That was when the murderer decided Newt wasn't suffering enough. And started to step on the part of Newt's hand that dangled outside.

Multiple times his hand got stomped on, without mercy.

< Make it stop. Make it stop. Please. PLEASE >

Newt bumped his other hand against the door in desperation. His feet kicking out and his body spasming in helplessness to get his hand back. 

To regain some control of his body.

Blood gushed from the new injury. His fingers standing out in awkward angels as the mans boot connected with them over and over again. Some bone sticking out here and there.

Suddenly- the man stopped stomping. 

He took a slow step back to watch Newt suffer in silence. Tears were running down his pale face and as soon as the man had stood back the door was closed and locked in an instance. 

Newt fell back on the ground when he was satisfied with his safety, rolling this side to clutch his broken hand and wrist. Crying and sobbing without a sound leaving his lips.

The murderer couldn't help but watch. Because he had created it. This was all his. He was the reason Newt was bleeding and crying. He was the reason Newt wouldn't make it to the next morning.

Slowly he crouched down. His movements controlled and calm, so not to startle the victim too much.

He reached out to touch the glass with his hands. Waiting for Newt to finally look at him with those beautiful frightened eyes.

He sat there waiting, for an unknown amount of time. Watching Newt calm down enough to focus on the mans face long enough to be able to read his lips.

They look at one another for a few more moments. Both cold and tired. Injured and bruised by one another.

The man sighs, this has to come to an ending. He couldn't die here tonight, this was getting out of control. 

"I'm coming in." 

Newt slowly looked up at him. 

And with his tired and worn out body, he slowly came to sit upright. 

Still shaking. Still bleeding, but he was still there. Still alive.

He was still Newt.

< And you still have a plan >

His face was absolutely blank from any emotion. Cold and tired. 

< But still Newt. And still alive >

And without wincing, looking the murderer straight in the eyes, he took some blood from his leg wound and wrote on the glass.

'Do It'

He demanded. His face not giving away any emotions. Nothing to show he was scared to die or intending to do anything against the man.

The man didn't seem to like the challenge. His eyes drifting down to Newt's wounds, inspecting if-

Loudly, Newt banged against the glass. 

'Do it'

In a moment of bravery he took some more of his dripping blood.

'Coward' He wrote after it. 

His face nothing but a challenge. Clutching his injured arm to his chest.

It didn't hurt as much as the other wounds had when he sported them. Everything felt numb and surreal. 

Perhaps this was just another hallucination.

The mans face started matching Newt's challenging one. 

This time he wasn't frowning, he wasn't smirking. But he was blank like a sheet. Like the mask he wore when he arrived.

He didn't say anything more. But his eyes spoke enough between them while his fists bawled up in fury. 

Slowly he turned away from Newt. Walking off the veranda calmly, starting to look for something to break open the glass door.

< It all comes down to this moment >

Newt immediately makes a turn to his living room as the man came to a start, for his own plan. 

He was limping and crying, bleeding and bruised. But he wasn't broken, yet. If he was going to die, he was going to die trying. 

Slowly he stumbled onto the couch, and hastily opened his laptop with his one good hans. The light coming from the device nearly blinding him for a moment.

< Don't fucking start bitching now. Time is one of the many things you do not have now >

Newt muffled a groan at the painful task of typing on the keyboard. His fingers croaked and broken. Nails missing and stinging.

'MALE 5'9 GREEN EYES BROWN HAIR SHORT TATTOO SIDE NECK' He wrote hastily. His eyes skimming over the lines to check if they were correct. 

'LOVE YOU MINHO DIED FIGHTING' 

In the reflection of his laptop he saw the man breaking the glass with a big rock. And he was almost through the door. He didn't have time to write more, he could think of a million things he wanted to tell Minho- if he wouldn't make it.

< Come on. Come on you gotta go. Minho will understand >

He shut the laptop down, in good hopes that the man wouldn't delete his text or smash his laptop to the ground. 

When he stood back up, his legs were shaking dangerously, almost unable to keep Newt's full weight. Luckily he could always rely on the adrenaline, it was clear he needed to put some space between him and the murderer. 

Newt looked over his shoulder as he limped over to bathroom. The murderer was almost through the glass, incredibly furious while smashing the stone over and over again against the door, he would definitely outrun Newt once he'd get inside.

< There is no reason to keep dwelling on it. Go to the bathroom and lock the door >

He wouldn't be fast with his injuries, he had no time left to ready the kitchen further for plan B. 

Slowly he followed the way towards the safest place he could think of on the main floor, he couldn't possibly think of climbing the stairs in his current condition. The idea only made him shaky.

< He is almost through the door Newt, get in and keep quiet >

With his good hand he pulled the door shut behind him quietly and locked it. There was no furniture he could push against it. Either way, he knew the killer could get through if he wanted with to enough force and willingness. 

When he felt save enough to sit on the floor, he was finally able to take a few deep breathes.

A kitchen knife was clutched between his fingers as a weapon. Still too tense to let it down yet.

< That's it. Almost save. Almost morning. Almost done >

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

< It's taking too long >

Newt tries to refocus his eyes, still fixed on the pale wooden door. 

The knife was still clutched hard in his hand, turning his knuckles white. His back leaning against the bathtub in support of his back. 

Everything was numb and he tried to wiggle his toes, but they were too cold to move about.

He lost too much blood. 

He was unable to sit upright or to focus his vision for longer periods of time. 

Sometimes he even lost contact with reality, drifting about in his mind, without any sense of how long those periods lasted at the time.

But whenever it happened he'd find himself fallen over on the cold white tiles, and he had to correct his position and sit upright, ready to attack if the man would burst through the door.

< Something is wrong. Something must have happened >

Newt could almost cry because of the desperation he felt- if he'd have any fluids left. He has no sense of time, and most importantly no idea where the murderer was located at the moment.

< Maybe you should go outside, you are going to pass out and not wake up again the next time >

But he couldn't risk it, the murderer could be anywhere, and Newt wouldn't be able to hear him coming.

< Or even barely able to see him > The voice reminded him sternly. < Your senses are low, something needs to happen quickly >

His legs were numb and lifeless as he tries to stretch them. He couldn't really feel them- probably because of the blood loss. But he didn't panic about it, yet, expecting the murderer to come find him. Not the other way around.

< You need to get some food into your system, find a real weapon and- >

In a contrast to the cold and dry bathroom, hot and moist air hit the back of his neck. 

Goosebumps prickled at his neck, he almost gave himself away when a rush of realization hit him. 

< There are two ways into the main floors bathroom. The door you're bloody staring at- and the window above the bath >

He needed to think swiftly. Something cold and solid was hovering over his skin and without making any sudden movements, without thinking about it twice- 

He turned around in one swift slide and stabbed the murderer in the side. 

Immediately in return, a knife nestled in his shoulder, hard and incredibly painful, but he knew the murderer was taken by surprise. 

He had targeted Newt's neck- a killing stab, but had fallen over and his head hit against the tub. 

Newt got up to his feet immediately. Numbness and pain forgotten for a few moments longer.

While he started limping towards the kitchen he pulled the knife from his shoulder and threw it to the ground in halfway in the living room.

He wasn't very fast, but the murderer wasn't so much either. He needed to lean against the wall to support his body weight.

< Resume the previous plan. It can fit, it could work >

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we got a name, Randall, and eeeh we're bleeding to death over here


	9. neder

Newt's vision was blurry and his head was fussy again, he tries to focus on his breathing. 

He took a few more steps without loosing his consciousness. And when his eyes finally cleared enough for him to see, he realized he'd made it far enough into the kitchen.

Newt's knees buckled when he had nothing to lean onto anymore. Luckily he had the counter to sit up against.

Tiredly, his head lolled back against the counter. Watching the murderer round the corner and approach him, almost slower then Newt had been.

< Good. Suffer >

When the man was close enough to make out his devilish snake tattoo, he looked Newt dead in the eye. 

Newt noticed they were both having a hard time catching their breath. He smirked at the murderer without thinking of the pain and loss.

"You fucking cunt." He snarls, going to his knees and pointing the knife straight towards Newt, the same one he got stabbed with.

He was spitting and screeching, almost distracting Newt from reading his poisoned lips. "It was time to make a ending to this." 

< Then come at me, bitch > Newt thought back when the man leaned over him.

And in one swift movement, sprayed his eyes with wasp extermination. 

The murderer fell over with a loud groan. His eyes burning and involuntary tears streamed down his cheeks. His hand clutched towards his face.

He rolled over on the ground. Moaning and groaning at the itch, distracted enough not to notice Newt getting back to his feet slowly.

Newt's good hand did all the work when he grabbed the fire alarm where Thomas had left it on the kitchen island. 

He fumbled with it for a moment, cooperating with only one hand served to be more difficult then expected.

< Don't forget your clock is ticking. The murderer won't be distracted forever > Finally he got the device in the right position. It was hard to see anything in the dark, but he found the switch. 

< For Tommy. For Gally. For Minho >

With one swift switch it turned on. Instantly it started bleeping loud enough for the glass to rattle and flashing stinging lights colored the living room every other second.

Newt glanced towards the living room, where he had last seen the murderer. 

He was back on his feet, growling as a wild animal, but he was too disoriented for a attack and covered his ears in surprise of the alarm, while Newt tried to inch closer and closer. 

Intending to make the man completely deaf by the time the battery died.

The murderer tried to get away from the offensive sound, bumping against furniture and the wall, his ears ringing and his legs nearly giving out as Newt got closer and closer.

< Let him suffer. Make him feel the pain you felt. Make him scream >

Newt dropped the fire alarm to the ground. And took a started to fling at the man with the knife he left on the counter. 

The man didn't let himself get effected now that Newt had a weapon as well. Pushing Newt away hard enough to fall over. 

The push was unexpected, Newt didn't registered it until he landed on his spine painfully. 

His body curled up as the man started kicking him in the side and the thigh wound. Soon everything was burning inside and he couldn't sense anything but the pain.

He tried not to sob, because if he did it would take more of his energy. But the pain was intense and nearly send him unconscious. 

The murderer didn't stop. He kept fighting and kicking. 

< Don't give up now. Don't stop now. You can still win, you can still make it out alive, just do something >

Newt kicked out in all his might with the injured leg. Kicking the murderer hard against the knee, reflexively he doubled over onto Newt.

Newt spit on his face, trying to roll them over so he was the one on top. But the man was too determent to win, and too strong for Newt. His hands trying to close up around Newt's neck to close up his airway. 

Newt leaned to his head the side and bit in the offensive hand. Earning a shallow groan, but no further release. 

Desperately he kicks his legs out and reaches for the mans face, but his isn't tall enough, and not strong either. 

< Try harder. You have to try harder >

The murderer groaned in pain of being bitten, but he let himself be dominated.

In one swift movement he grabbed Newt's neck tighter and used it to bash his head against the floor. Hard enough to hear a crack if it hadn't been for the alarm.

His hands got tighter around Newt's neck. Choking him hard and successfully, same as it had been with Gally.

Newt was unable to reach the mans face with his hands. Unable to kick his back with his legs. And had no chance to wriggle out of his hold.

He didn't think it was fair for him to go like this. Almost he had won, almost he was the one to walk away from it all. 

His eyes started to widen, his head fuzzier than it had ever been before and black dots appearing on his vision. 

His arms slowly fell to the side. Too heavy to hold up anymore, now his lungs started to cave in. His legs sinking down to the ground alongside the rest of his body.

Everything was sluggish and heavy around him. As if the walls were falling down and the ceiling was slowly falling apart on top of them.

Everything hurt so much all the while he didn't think he felt anything anymore. 

He hadn't understood the seriousness of his situation until he registered the the murderers face lighten up in triumph. 

He must be losing now.

< You don't want to- >

< Open your eyes Newt. You can- >

< Don't give- >

< Please Newt- >

< Newt you gotta- >

Nothing made sense anymore. His head felt empty and airy, as if he had been given a strong drugs. One that made him feel sorrow less and light. 

Everything got fussy and the world started to get darker than he could ever imagine before. 

It didn't feel like falling asleep, or standing in a dark room. It felt more like he had been consumed by darkness and won't see anything bright and beautiful every again.

He could vaguely remember the fire alarm was still flashing lights in the background. And the face of a angry man hung above him. Kept him in place.

The world was turned upside down. And he wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't anymore. 

Was he dying?

Newt desperately tried to speak. Tried to move his body out of the shock he was experiencing, but everything seemed stuck. And everything was quiet.

Why couldn't he hear anything? He wondered sadly. Maybe his mom would help him when she'd come back from work- or his father. 

Newt whimpered at the cold that suddenly spread through him, and suddenly, instead of the angry fussy man dangling over him, a beautiful familiar face appeared. Softly lulling him towards the light waiting at him in the distance. 

A familiar face, that made sure he ate enough when the exams were coming.   
Eyes as bright and beautiful as the sun. A smile that could heal a nation.   
A person, who'd do everything for his loved ones.   
A face he'd kill for to see one last time.

Newt's face turned blue with the lack of oxygen and his neck started to swell up dangerously- Something sharp and cold rolled over the floor in between his fingers.

And without aiming, without thinking. He stabbed the knife into the mans head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It took a long time, something that felt like a million years, but the heavy body of the man rolled off of Newt. Because he himself didn't have the strength to push it. 

And everything got cleared up when he could finally take his first deep breath.

< You did it. You did it, Newt > He felt like it should be victory he must be feeling, but he didn't. He felt sick and tired.

For another few moments he was unable to get up from the cold floor. < But in order to survive, you need medical help. Now- Newt >

He slowly came to sit upright, but immediately leaned over to dry heave, nothing left inside of him to throw back up. 

After that, without making any abrupt movements that could make his injuries worse, he sat up, right next to the body of his attacker.

< He must have a phone on him, if not yours and Gally's >

Newt's fingers trembled as he rummaged through the mans pocket. He felt disgusted to touch his body, but he didn't have a choice. 

Within a minute, the first phone he found was covered in a leather case with Thomas' name written on it.

< Gally's phone > Newt thought relieved. His fingers shook in the aftermath, but determined enough to get the password right and scroll through the contacts.

Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he read Minho's name on the list. The screen bloody with his fingertips printed on it. 

Messily he clicked on the call button.

Not even a second later, it got answered."Gally! God fucking finally you decided to fucking call back, Jesus. I'm not digging this man, I'm in my car, I'm coming over. I'll be there in like two minutes, but I'll go over to Newt's first. See if everything is okay there. Gally do you hear me? Gally?-"

Newt got to his feet slowly. The room still spinning as he swayed towards the front door. Putting the phone on speaker for Minho to hear the fire alarm.

"Shit! What the fuck is- That sounds like Newt's alarm. I'm calling 911. Say something, Gally! What the hell is going on?!" 

Newt wasn't phrased by the cold that hit him outside, but he was almost knocked over by the wind. 

Tiredly he imagined Minho's voice reassuring him. He imagined Minho whispering to him sweetly everything would be okay very soon. 

Newt hopes he'd call 911. Before everything would get blurry again. 

He wasn't sure how long he could keep himself up. But he was sure it wouldn't be a long time.

He stumbled onto the veranda. His knees giving out on him as he took a seat on the wooden stairs. 

He looked out towards the forest, Gally's cold body and his wrecked car.

The phone was still clutched in his hand. His only and desperate lifeline. 

The sound of the alarm must be muffled by now. But Minho hadn't hung up on him yet. 

"Gally. You need to answer me. What is going on? I need to know, the emergency services would want to know who they have to send-"

The sun started to peak up through the trees. Showing that Newt had made it to the morning. 

Newt pulls his knees to his chest, and out of the blue started sobbing loudly. 

His entire world seemed to crush down on him, and never he wanted to be able to hear so badly for a long time. 

"Gall- are you crying, Are you okay? Stop crying, it will be okay. I'll be there in just a minute I swear."

Newt sobbed harder as he saw the flashes of the alarm stopping, the battery died down. 

He glanced towards the house for a moment. Knowing he wouldn't be able to ever come back inside that place again.

Newt took a deep breathe. Calming his cries down a little. 

"You can hold it for that long okay? An ambulance is coming and so is the police- maybe they can call for firefighters if necessary. It will be all fine. We will all be just fine in a few moments okay? Hang on, I know you can-"

Newt whipped his bloody nose with his arm. Shaking uncontrollably, he couldn't stop himself from reaching out towards the phone. 

He didn't know if Minho could hear him- but maybe- probably- it was worth a shot.

"Minho."

A broken and croaked unpracticed voice spoke a bit too loud into the nights air. 

And Minho's breathe was taken away, his car almost swirled off the road in panic and shock. 

"Newt?! Newt if this is Newt you-" He cursed at himself. "You can't fucking hear me Jesus. Please hang on. One minute Newt. Just one minute."

Newt smiled as he imagined Minho's touch. Imagining him pulling him in a hug. He hoped Minho would hold him when they'd meet again. 

If they'd meet again. 

"Help." He said, not sure how it came out but- 

But in the distance, all of sudden, he saw lights dotting through the trees.

Only a few seconds later a familiar black car stopped in front of the veranda. 

And Newt felt comfortable enough to pass out, the moment Minho's arms wrapped around him.

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO FINALLY ARRIVED!!!!! :D


	10. pae

If there was one thing in the world Minho had to use and describe happiness, it would be rolling over in his warm bed and feel his lover laying peacefully beside him. 

Newt was always radiating warmth, like a heater in the cold winter or the sun itself on a summer day. 

Minho sighed contently, closing his eyes and breathing in the familiar scent that finally seeped back into his pillows. 

He wished he could have this every day. The things he would do to get to fall asleep next to Newt every day were infinite. 

He loved Newt an awfully lot. Sometimes it killed him inside to see him leaving on the weekends, not to return to Minho until school would be back or when they'd have a scheduled date. 

He wished it would be like this every day. Domestically happy and familiar and always together.

Always together.

Minho pulled the sheets closer around himself, stealing it from Newt as the hoarder he enjoyed to be. 

He didn't often voice his domestic thoughts to Newt. Not only it seemed  a bit too early to do so, even after knowing one another for years, but it would lead to either mistrust or tears. And Minho hated both of them in his lovers eyes. 

As if Minho had been thinking out loud, Newt rolled over, half awake with his eyes drooping dangerously. 

Silently he mouths. "Hey." Smiling as Minho reaches out and caressed his warm forehead, moving his hair from his face. 

"Hey." He whispers back. Incredibly glad to look into Newt's dark eyes after a long day. "I'm happy you're here." 

Newt smiles wider in response. His hands warm when they slide under Minho's shirt. Boney fingers moving gently over his skin, making Minho relax more into the mattress. 

Minho's lip reading wasn't as skilled as Newt was, but he caught every word that formed on his lips. 

"If you want to talk, I need more light." Newt breathes out, almost loud enough to form the words.

Minho always enjoyed a talk after a dreadful day at work, but it was late and they both could use some goodnights sleep. 

"No." He declines, pulling the covers up to their chins before wrapping his arms around Newt. "Let's just sleep."

Newt sighs softly, rolling over until his face was buried into Minho's neck. Breathing in and out slowly. Reflecting on their day and lives. 

They lay awake for a long time after that. 

Newt sprawled over Minho's chest, imagining the sound of his heartbeat lulling him to sleep. While Minho loosely held him right where he belonged, his fingers drawing patterns on Newt's skin. 

Before he fell asleep that night, he prayed silently for God to let them fall asleep next to one another every day. For the rest of their lives.

\-------

When Minho woke up again, it was to the sound of the tv and the smell of something sweet being cooked in the kitchen.

In a rush, it all came back that Newt had stayed over, and that he most likely was still waiting for Minho to get up as well. 

On his bare feet he made his way towards the kitchen, lightly tapping on the cold tiles. 

The scent had gotten richer and the lights brighter. Once he made it towards the kitchen he suddenly realized how incredibly lucky he was. 

Because there stood Newt. His eyes focused on the television while absently stirring the food on the stove. Wearing his woolen socks and Minho's high school sweater. 

Minho started to realized how much he hated each and every moment Newt wasn't by his side. 

In fast strides, he is in Newt's reach and wraps his arms around him from behind. 

Newt smiles when he feels Minho breathe against his neck. Slowly he turned towards him. / Good morning \, before kissing him on the cheek. 

Minho's smile grew wider, his fingers lightly pinching Newt in the side, until he is annoyed enough to pull Minho away slightly . 

Mockingly, he pinches Minho back. / You're a bully \\. Before crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest. 

Minho couldn't help himself and leans forward to kiss him on the lips. Soft and sweet. 

It didn't last long because of Minho's morning breath, but when they leaned back, Newt looked almost dazed at how gentle Minho could touch him. 

But the smug smile on Minho's face was enough to have Newt huffing again. 

/ You're still an asshole. Kissing me won't help your case \ 

/ It will if you'd let the feelings take over \ Minho signed, his fingers still numb from sleeping, but Newt didn't get distracted. 

He smiled. / Fuck off with your feelings. I didn't even have my first coffee yet \ Newt grimaced, passing Minho by to get their mugs.

Minho sighed contently while watching Newt striding around the kitchen like he owned it. Confident and beautiful in his lean body as he carried the mugs towards the coffee machine in the far corner of the kitchen. 

Minho couldn't help himself, leaning against the cabinets while Newt got the machine working. 

"I love you." 

Newt's eyes darted up from where he stood on behind the kitchen island. Leaning heavily on the bar stool. 

/ Did you say something? \ 

Minho bit his lip. He could never be sure when or if it was the right time to take the next step wit his boyfriend. Never was he completely sure if he could voice what he had on his mind without causing any damage in their relationship. 

Because if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that he didn't want to lose that smile on Newt's face and that he didn't want to lose everything they had worked for together for so long. 

/ Min? \ 

He was exasperating. Most likely. Newt loved Minho. Minho loved Newt. And there was nothing, nothing in the world that could tear them apart after all they've been through.

/ Come live with me \

The frown on Newt's face almost send Minho into a puddle of regret on the floor. His hands shaking and his shoulders tensing. 

"Never mind, let's forget I asked." He rushes out. His heart aching painfully for something- anything. 

/Minho\ Newt quickly made his way towards him. His cold hands suddenly tracing Minho's toned arms to get him to relax. / Did you mean that, love? \

Minho scoffs. "Course I meant that. With all my heart. I just don't worry want you to about my feelings or what I might think. If you don't want to move in with me- that's fine. You don't have to, we can wait for some time longer and-"

Newt shushed him by putting his finger to his lips. A small hesitant smile curling his lips.

/ Are you sure you want me to move in with you? \

Minho swallows thickly. His hands coming to rest on Newt's boney hip while they lean against each other. 

"It's a big step- even for us, but... I just can't imagine myself waking up happy in the morning without you laying beside me." 

Newt smiles wider. Bright and excited. / I'd love to \ wrapping his arms around Minho's neck and hugging him tightly.

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

Everything was blurred and seemed muted by an invisible glass wall surrounding Minho. 

He couldn't hear anything. Couldn't make out what the voices of the paramedics or the policemen intended to say to him. 

The help services were yelling around, arguing and driving the gathering neighbors back. Newt's lawn was overflowing with curious faces and questioning looks. 

The sun had finally gotten up. Giving the audience a better look at the events that had hung around the house that night. 

Newt's car was beaten down. Some windows were broken and there was blood everywhere.

Everywhere.

Someone patted his shoulder. Minho hardly noticed the intruder, until he sunk down low enough to be on eye level. 

"Hey man." Alby grumbles out. His eyes heavy and dark. Unshaven and still wearing his pajamas. "They called me in." He informs, pulling a plush blanket around Minho's shoulders to keep him warm in the cold breeze. 

Minho didn't understand everything that Alby said. His hands were shaking uncontrollably. Red with warm fresh blood. 

His boyfriends warm fresh blood. 

"They're trying to figure out what happened here last night." Alby continued, "Some things are sure, the electricity had been cut off and there are clear signs of burglary..." Alby informs, rubbing his cold fingers together. 

"There was this body- this man. I had to identify it, I couldn't. Maybe he was the one that-" Alby coughed, his hands shaking. "He had some nasty wounds himself. But the police is still looking into it. I ain't even sure if he was alive. He sure didn't look it." 

Minho couldn't get himself to look up at him. Clutching the blanket wrapped around his back, making it dirty with blood. "D-did he h-hurt Newt?"

Alby shrugged sympathetically. "Could be. Or the murderer escaped and this one is just another victim." The chances were small for that. The woods were small and everyone knew one another. Especially Alby who was very involved with the towns community.

"Minho. They're going to take Newt away-" 

Minho's eyes shot up and his body became even more rigid. "No. Don't let them take him away! Please-" his entire body started to tremble and tears threatened to spill from his eyes. 

"Calm down." Alby orders. Physically shaking Minho out of it. "Calm down, they are taking him to the hospital. They weren't sure if he'd- if he'd make it if he would be moved, but the chances are the lowest if he doesn't get an operation soon. They asked me if you wanted to drive along in the ambulance." Alby says, slowly getting him into a sitting position again.

Minho couldn't catch his breath yet. Shivering in the cold despite the blanket. 

"You're getting into a state of shock, Minho. You need to focus and get to get hospital and be there for Newt. You need each other." Alby ordered. Saying each and every word pointedly, staring right into Minho's dazed eyes. 

"Get yourself together." He says sternly. His own hands trembling and mind swirling. Trying to keep himself big in front of the authorities. "We need to be strong. We have to." 

They were Alby's friends too, Minho reminds himself. If Alby can be strong, he can be as well-

From behind the house our of the shadows, two policemen walk by, carrying a black body sack. 

A painful throb strangled made Minho's throat clench painfully. Unable to keep himself from hiding his emotions away. Thomas? Gally? 

Someone else he cared for?

Immediately he looked away, afraid to start vomiting over the shape of his dead friend. 

His eyes fell on Alby. Watching him take a deep calming breath as if to restrain himself from throwing a punch at the wrong person.

"You can do this. Grab your wallet, get on the ambulance. I'll take care of your car." 

Minho swallows thickly. "I- thank you." 

Alby grunts, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That's why I am your emergency contact after all." 

Minho couldn't get himself to smile at the light hearted joke. His eyes were heavy and his body ached to be close to Newt. 

It felt as if he had aged a thousand years over one night.

Slowly Alby's hand slipped away and Minho handed his car keys over. "Keep me updated." 

Minho nods shakily, still trying to fully register what was going on around him. The sound of people murmuring and sirens of more cars wailing filled the forest. 

Alby moves them towards the ambulance. Calling a paramedic to make place for Minho. 

Then- a friendly man helps him into an ambulance seat, pulling a thick secure seatbelt around him, before slamming the door shut. 

They were suddenly in a hurry after all. 

Minho rubbed his fingers over his knees. The blanket fallen low onto his shoulders. His eyes darted over towards the bed secured in tightly next to him.

Newt lay there seemingly unconscious, all available machines wired to his body and a blanket gently lain over him, his torn clothes in no condition to keep him warm.

He was rasping out breathes and trembling as if still freezing or living the nightmare he endured last night. 

His lips were white as sheets, soft groans of pain filling the quietness of the car. Newt's eyes rolling behind their lids restlessly. 

Minho reached out to tenderly take Newt's pale cold hand into his own. His fingers were almost as white as Newt's- even if he'd lost more blood than Minho had ever seen. 

He was as white as a sheet. 

Gently he rubbed his fingers over Newt's, trying to get the warmth back into their hands. "We're going to the hospital, Newt. You're going to be all fine." 

The paramedic smiled at them, handing over a bottle of cola from his bag. "Drink some. S'good after a night like this, ya know,"

Minho mindlessly took it from him with a halfhearted grunt. 

But after opening the drink he couldn't get himself to swallow it down over the block in his throat. Still watching Newt breathe with great difficulty didn't help either. 

"Bud. Ya really should drink that. We don't want ya passin out that is." One of the paramedics says, standing up to check on Newt's vitals. Frowning slightly. 

"Clint, speed the car up would ya?" 

Another one speaks up now, sitting in the front to keep an eye on the road. "Give 'm a break Jeff. And I'm going as fast as I can. Winston has the operation room ready for the boy." 

Clint addresses Minho. "He's your boyfriend right?" 

Minho nods. His fingers getting warmer. "H-he is. We are. Yea." Still feeling Newt clamp his fingers desperately tight around his own in reflex of his pain. 

"Y'all look cute." Clint says, with a reassuring tone. "Good you're here for him." 

Jeff sighs, not looking Minho in the eye while going over Newt. "We're gettin 'm in care real fast, promise." His hands not wavering when they graced over Newt's forehead to check for a fever. "But ya need to take care of yerself, don't need ya getting more in shock." 

Minho worried on his bottom lip, the cola bottle still secure in his freehand. 

"I'm not in shock."

There was a snort from behind the steering wheel and Jeff spared him a look of disbelief. 

"Then keep it that way." 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess everything is going really slow amd fast at the same time now right haha


	11. minig

Minho had visited the hospital quite some times over the years, as a matter of facts, he was was even born in one. 

The hospital had been a familiar place for all his life, for his own troubles or visiting his friends.

As a child he'd always gotten sick pretty quick and infections followed ever so now and then. 

Or the time his granny needed a new hip and he visited her after the operation and a few days after that. His mother insisting he brought food and flowers with him every time he came by. 

Or every time he broke a bone after climbing an unstable tree or a sport game he intended to take too serious.

And the times he went along with Newt for check ups on his ears.

Yes, Minho was familiar with quite a few departments on the hospital. It was as if he could finally breathe after being chocked for hours. It felt like a first grasp of reality when he walked into the white hallways. 

But the amount of familiarity also made him catch up on reality. 

And to realize that Newt, his boyfriend, best friend and life partner, may not make it to the next day, crushed Minho. 

He hadn't registered that much before. It had been a combination of shock and fear all together to feel Newt pass out in his arms on his front step. Covered in blood and bruises. 

And when he had gotten glimpses of Gally and Thomas' corpses, he was relieved to see Newt breathing. Still alive. 

Then it all became a bit harder to remember, when the emergency services arrived and checked Newt in. But to Minho's surprise, there had been no rush to the hospital. There was no hurry at all. 

Later, Alby told him that was because they had been sure Newt wouldn't survive his way to the hospital. Jostled and shaken up fatally by the car ride alone. 

They had been convinced there was no happy ending to this story. 

Minho didn't like dwelling back to that moment, he hadn't been aware enough to do anything for Newt at that moment. 

Luckily- thank God- after paramedics Jeff and Clint suggested an operation performed by specialists Winston and Siggy, Newt had been given the opportunity to be brought to the hospital and see if he could survive the operation table.

Minho had been there to hold Newt's hand when they had gotten into the hospital. But Newt was carried away and out of reach in a matter of seconds. 

And then Minho was only surrounded by strangers. That was when he got a clearer view of reality.

The nurses told him everything Minho was allowed to hear, everything that was already sure to say.

Newt had been exposed to cold for a long period of time, almost so cold he was in a risk factor and would experience a painful pressure. 

Alongside that, there was the messy leg injury, the bolt of the arrow wasn't completely removed, which caused some of the doctors to fuss if it would even make a difference if they would operate and not just amputate. 

Further more, Newt also had his feet painfully injured, with some clear signs of an infection, including a high fever that still wasn't lowering.

Adding up with trail of bruises over the spine, a few broken fingers and nails, a clean back stab, purple throat bruises from suffocation, a concussion and a mild case of phenomena. 

A doctor even checked Newt's older files to make sure Newt wanted to be kept alive with the injuries he was currently sporting. 

Reality hung over Minho like a plastic bag suffocating him, the nurse explaining everything to him slowly and professionally. Her eyes were full of emotion, but her chin held up high in determination. "He will be brought in here after the operation. We'll make sure he is comfortable." 

Minho could only nod along. His mind taking in all the information in slowly. 

Silently, he was brought into the room they would take Newt after his operation. 

The room was the most luxurious hospital room Minho had ever seen in his life. One so cozy and colorful, it served only for people who were living their very last moments and needed a quiet place to drift off. 

Minho took a shaky breath. The nurse was prodding around the room. Watering the flowers and opening the windows for fresh air. "Like I said, we want our- special patients- to make sure they can be comfortable." 

Minho let himself fall into an armchair, his legs too shaky to keep him up. 

"Sir, do you want me to get you something to drink?" 

He shook his head. Hiding his face in his hands as his thoughts roared through his mind. 

"You- sir, you want to be sure you are sharp in moments like this." She says. Standing right in front of him with her notebook. "These moments are the most crucial." 

Minho looked up at her slowly. "Moments like what?" He challenged her. Eyes narrowing dangerously. 

She didn't back down, only stood up straighter and more determined. "Nobody gets assigned to a room like this unless there is a 67% chance they won't make it to the next week." She sighed, taking the armchair beside him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

"Face it, whoever you are waiting for right now is experiencing a lot of pain. And if they survive the operation, it may be their very last moments with you. Those are critical moments. The most critical moments of your entire life, and you will regret not being able to keep your eyes open or pass out from dehydration." 

Minho didn't have to shrug her hand off like he had intended to do, because she let go of him immediately. Stood up and gave him a breakfast package that looked like plane food. 

"You look like a fine man, sir." She said, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Take care." 

Minho watched her go, and finally managed to get some orange juice down. 

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It was later in the afternoon when Minho started to doze off, his eyes drooping and head falling back, just as a knock on the door pulled him back to consciousness. 

"Doctor?" Minho asks, sitting upright and rubbing his eyes tiredly, immediately alert again. "How's Newt? How did it go?" 

The doctor sighs, his nameplate reading Winston. "The operation went as successful as an operation like this can go. I do not want to cause any distress, mister Park, but I am the best in the state at what I do and this was- a very hard case." 

Minho almost bristled under the mans sad eyes. His hands sweaty and head aching. "His condition doctor? Will he make it?" Standing up from his sitting position. 

Doctor Winston nods his head curtly. Exhausted from the operation as well. "I cannot be sure of anything now. I did what I could with the thigh wound and his hand. The wounds on his feet will be taken care of by a nurse. The bruises will fade and with some luck the fever breaks." 

Minho sighed out in relief. "That's a good start right." 

Winston clears his throat. "He is not out of the danger zone. We try to let him feel as little as possible, but- he is hurting, mister Park. We try as well as we can, but..." 

Minho frowns, his cheeks getting flushed with adrenaline. "But what doctor?" 

"But with the amount of medication and sedatives in his blood, his body might as well give up on him. It has endured a lot, it is fighting, but it's a hard battle." 

Minho swallowed back any snarky remark he could think of throwing out. "When can I see him doctor?" 

"He needs rest, mister Park." 

Minho grits his teeth. "He needs me." His fists bawling up. "Please." 

Winston sighs, checking his clipboard. "He will be brought down any moment now. We'll have to dim the lights for his concussion and get someone to get a blanket and a pillow for you- or I take you want to stay here right?" 

Minho nodded immediately. Happy he was able to stay without a fuss. 

"How long will this room be assigned to him?" 

Winston had trouble getting the words out again. "Mister Park, Newton was injured really really bad. I cannot guarantee you anything. And I mean that." He sighed, taking a look at the clipboard again. 

"Let's start with getting him through the week. Then we can think about what may happen next."

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Half an hour later, after doctor Winston had left and Minho started to make phone calls, Newt got rolled into the dimmed room. Laying peacefully asleep on the mobile hospital bed.

Minho tried to stay out of the nurses way- he really tried to be mindful, but the moment the bed got put in place he couldn't help it and rushed to Newt's side and took his hand in his. 

His eyes filled with tears at the sight of Newt's face. Almost as pale as the blanket he was tugged into and purple with angry bruises. 

His neck had clear fingerprints marked over them, and his scent was unnaturally hygienic. 

Minho breathed deeply through his nose. Not sure what he would do with the person who had hurt Newt like this, but they sure as hell have to watch their backs if they wanted to continue living. 

One of the nurses purses her lips, trying to check on all the machines and tubes wired Newt. All while Minho was silently leaning on the edge bed. 

"Sir, I need to check the IV drip." She announced, leaning over Newt and Minho to check on the fluids given to Newt. "We don't want him to be uncomfortable, right?" 

Minho nodded along. Watching as another nurse took a look at Newt's freshly cleaned feet. "I'll have to stitch some of these cuts. They took all the twigs and little rocks out, but it ain't closing up."

The IV nurse hums. Absently putting the doze up of Newt's sedatives. "I can get the equipments. Still bleeding?" 

Minho leaned over to take a look and he regretted immediately.

Newt's feet were covered in painful thick uneven cuts. Some still bleeding and turned into slightly odd colors. 

"How can something like this happen?" He asks unbelievably shocked, his voice low and whispery. "How can someone- cut my boyfriends feet?" 

The nurse that examined Newt's feet lays a soft hand on his shoulder. "Oh sweetie. Take a deep breath." 

Minho couldn't. His eyes searching for Newt's heart monitor. The green line showing Newt was alive. Newt was recovering. Newt was getting better. 

"The cuts, they're so messy, it wasn't inflicted by a knife. He probably ran outside without his shoes on. He tried to clean it himself, readable from the alcohol in the cuts, but some things were in too deep." 

Minho watched Newt's chest rise up and down. Slow and peaceful. 

The nurse smiles down at him, taking the stitch equipments from the IV nurse, before readying them. "You might want to look away now, sweetie." 

Minho obeyed. Sitting back at his spot next to Newt. 

"I'm Brenda by the way. Teresa and I are assigned to mister- err-"

"Newt." Minho fills in curtly, not looking at her. 

"Yes, Newt." She says softly. Taking the needle and plasters. "Teresa is the night nurse and I'll be there around noon and morning." 

Minho hummed. Distracted by the way Newt's head slowly fell to the side, his eyes still closed and fingers still lax. 

"She was in today as well?" He asks after a long moment of silence. Almost as an afterthought. 

Brenda was busy with the cuts now, some needed to get stitched up, but most could do well enough with plasters only. "Hmmhm, that'll be her. Long black hair, blue eyes?" 

"Yes, that was her." Minho whispers, slowly playing Newt's hair from his forehead. "Will Newt wake up again?"

Brenda sighs, her hands wavering for a moment. "Honey..." 

Minho knew the answer would be as indefinite as all the other answers the hospital had given him. "Never mind... I just-"

"Oh my God!" A sobbing shriek came from the doorway. 

Minho and Brenda turned to the door, both startled by the sudden interruption. 

There stood Lizzy, Newt's younger sister. Her hair pulled up in a messy bun and her clothes soaked wet from the rain. She wore a regular college sweater and black leggings. Her eyes filled with tears and cheeks flushed red. 

"Newt!" She cried, running towards the bed to lean over her brother. "Oh what did they do to you?! What did they do to him!" 

Minho tried not to his at the high pitch of her voice, pulling her in a hug to keep her from hysterically clutching onto Newt and making his injuries worse. 

"What happened Minho?!" She cried in his shirt. Shaking and clutching onto his shoulders. "How could this happen to him?" 

Minho held her a little tighter, ignoring the pointing look he received from Brenda to get Lizzy quieter in consideration of Newt's concussion and rest. 

Minho rested his chin on her forehead. Trying to silence her sobs. 

"I'm here." He says. Closing his eyes as the room got flooded with emotions. "I'm here, Liz." 

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

After three more days of riddles and questions, the police came knocking on their door. 

Completely unexpected, Lizzy was making her homework in one of the armchairs. Alby was typing away on his laptop by the window and Minho was sitting by Newt's side, holding his hand tenderly in his. When suddenly the door opened and Teresa walked in with two agents behind her. 

"Minho, Alby and Lizzy, these are FBI agents Nick and George, they've got some information on Newt's case." 

She didn't look overly enthusiastic to have so many people in the room with Newt, but it was spacey enough. "Twenty minutes, please, he needs rest.

Minho stoop up while Alby closed his laptop. "We could always take this outside." 

"That's all fine with us." George agrees, shaking Minho's hand. 

Teresa nodded, tugging the sheet of Newt's bed tighter. "That would be preferable." 

Lizzy looked incredibly pale as she puts her papers into her bag, before stiffly walking towards the cops.

"I-I'm Lizzy." 

Nick shakes her hand. "The sister, if I'm correct." She nodded, before walking towards the hallway alongside Alby. 

Nick waited for Minho to let go of Newt, placing a soft kiss on his forehead as a promise that he would come back. 

Together they walked outside towards the hallway, leaving Newt behind with Teresa. 

Nick closed the door behind himself, before leaning against it as if to keep anyone from going back inside. "We've got some newfound information on Newtons case." 

Lizzy starts shaking, Alby sits her down in one of the chairs and lays a hand on her shoulder. "Why is the FBI on the case now and not our local policemen?"

George coughs into his hand before answering. "The case turned out to be bigger than first anticipated. That's why the FBI got it." 

Minho frowns, deciding to sit down as well next to Lizzy. 

"If there's anyone that cannot handle- hard news coming from professionals, I suggest they go back inside now, because it can get rough."

Everyone looked at Lizzy, whom had her hands in her pockets and shook her head. "I need to hear it. All of it." 

Nick and George share a glance, before opening their suit cases and revealing a stack of papers. 

Minho tried to keep his curiosity at bay. His fingers twitching for the papers. "What do you have there?"

George gives him a look. "Patience. And let us explain." 

Nick sighed, opening their first file. "Our first lead, to figuring out what had happened in the house that night, were the bodies and the house itself. Starting with the injuries and finger prints." 

Nick showed them a bunch of pictures of several finger prints laid next to one another. "Newtons finger prints were found on Thomas' clothes and Randall's crossbow and Randall himself." 

"That doesn't prove anything." Lizzy says immediately. Arms crossed in defense. "Newt would never hurt someone like that." 

Minho agrees entirely. "And who is Randall?" He adds.

George silences them with a hand gesture. "Please, let us finish before speaking." 

Nick shows a mug picture from his file that could only be Randall. "This is Randall Gorling. He was also found in the house on the night everything went down." Before he shows them another pair of handprint pictures. "Randall's fingerprints were found on his crossbow, Thomas, Newton, Newtons phone, Galileo and his phone. Besides also on a few of the weapons scattered over the property."

George took over then. "We weren't sure what to do with the little amount of evidence- and the little amount of survivors." 

Minho bit his lip to keep himself from interfering. His hands clasped together in his lap. 

"So, we had a massive breakthrough when Randall woke up from his coma last night." 

Everyone went silent for a moment. Taking the information in slowly, before George picked it up again. "We weren't sure if he would wake up again, as he got stabbed in the skull by Newton, or so he says, but the handprints show that is in fact correct." 

Lizzy bristled. "Newt cannot be sentenced for that. The man- Randall- he didn't die. You cannot punish him, Newt did not kill him." 

Nick nods at her. "I assure you, if you let us finish you will get more answers." 

She nods. Not at all assured, but curious to the story. 

"So, Randall managed to talk to us a few hours after waking up. And his entire story matched with the evidence we have and with the victims injuries." 

All blood drained from Minho's face, making him pale as a corpse. "A-and now?" 

George grabbed another file from his suitcase. This one thicker and looking more used than Nicks file. "This here, is Randall's history with the authorities, plus all the cases he was suspected to be a part of." 

Nick showed one of the pictures of his own file, one that showed a crossbow with a snake carved into it and a number of stripes. "Each stripe is for each of his victims. They match with his old files, and for the cases we couldn't find enough evidence for." 

Alby frowned down at the files and pictures. "Why? What are his motives to do something like that to our friends?" 

Minho glanced at him and nodded in agreement. "I do not understand it either. Was he some kind of crazy fan?  Or a stalker or something?" 

Nick cleared his throat. "We want you to listen to what he told us, and tell me if anything sounds out of character or illogical." Taking out a new file that had Randall's name splayed over it.

"We recorded his statement, we have it right here. Everyone still in to listen to this?" George asks, glancing over at Lizzy, but his gaze also lingering on Minho. "This isn't a pleasant story. You guys care for Newton, this is rough."

Minho didn't falter his gaze. "I need to hear it. Each and every word." 

Lizzy nods. "Me too."

And so, George turns on Randall's statement on their record machine and Nick shows each and every picture that fit the story.

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what's the next chapter going to be, jupp get ready


	12. uiug

It was a sunny day, for the late autumn at least. A bit chilly, and the wind was blowing, but it was a good day. 

I was just walking around the woods. Doing a bit of good old hunting in a lively active forest. 

I never stay in one place for long moments at the time, you know, you've seen my older files. I like being on the move so nobody has a way to lead back to where I will be next. 

My shoes were crushing leafs on the forest grounds and my crossbow was raised to shoot a rabbit, just a few feet away from me, when a sudden noise from the west made the little beast jump away. 

I was mildly annoyed, as you can imagine, but curiosity took the upper hand, and I went to investigate where the loud wailing noise came from. 

After a few minutes of walking, I came to a clear space in the forest, where a beautiful wooden cabin was located. 

I stayed quietly between the trees, it was still light enough for even a blind man to see me. So I stood there waiting, when the noise got turned off, and slowly the sun was setting. 

I remember the moment, that wonderful sweet moment that I saw them walking out the cabin. And I knew I would have them. 

One, pale with the most beautiful outstanding birthmarks I had ever seen. His eyes as hazelnut oceans and his step slow and clumsy. While the other one, sweet and beautiful Newt, tall and skinny, pale and rough. It was a dream come true. 

Thomas was to leave first. It had already been late, I'd say around ten or eleven. 

I watched him walk towards his own house, not a long walk, but he was in no hurry. I followed him for a long time, making sure he wouldn't notice me, until I decided it was time to get on with the chase. 

I introduced myself as a lost hunter, which technically, wasn't a lie entirely. And asked him if he maybe knew how to lead me towards the camping side of the forest. Thomas, was a kind beautiful, naïve young man. 

Naïve enough to take a walk with me for thirty minutes towards the "camping side" which I had crossed on my way towards Newt's home. 

He could chat for a long time, talking and talking about his classes and work. And not to forget his boyfriend Gally, who was going to ask him to marry him, or so Thomas had hoped. 

When I started to recognize the trees and my surroundings again, I decided to make a move. And cut my knife through Thomas' back. 

First came the state of shock, there's always a stare of shock when someone gets stabbed or a limb cut off. They've seen it on tv. They're read about it in the newspapers. But when it happens, when the blood drains from their faces, that's the most beautiful sight in the world there is. 

I chased him around for a while after that, each time I was able to catch him I inflicted a new wound to slow him down a little more the next time I needed to catch him. Making sure I was able to keep him away from his own home and closer towards Newt's.

At some point, I decided that I'd had enough and led poor bleeding Thomas straight towards Newtons cabin, where Thomas was shrieking and screaming for help with all his might. 

Too stupid to even consider trying to open the door himself, he kept kicking and slamming against one of the windows, unable to get Newt's attention, until finally, Thomas' body gave out. And with his last breathe he asked for Gally, isn't that sweet?

I dumped his body somewhere behind the house, not intending for anyone to see it before it gotten to rot and smell a little. 

Now comes the fun part, maybe even my favorite part, where I found out that Newt is unable to hear. A disabled writer. As I had taken a look at the book Thomas was carrying around.

I felt like I won the lottery. This man- this stupid deaf writer lives alone in a forest with no close neighbors that could call someone if they saw anything suspicious. 

It felt like Christmas. 

Where do I even start with this? The most eventful night of Newt's life and he isn't even thirty yet. 

I think it all started with me getting in. I wasn't as stupid as Thomas was, I checked the front door, which Newton had unlocked for anyone to come in, luckily me. And first things first, I stole his cellphone. Almost getting caught by mister boyfriend whilet they were skyping. 

Newt didn't suspect a thing, looking for his cat all around the house, leaving the door wide open, as if to invite me in. 

I took pictures of that. You can still see them on Newt's phone and messages if you'd like to. And that's how I introduced myself into Newt's evening. I send all the pictures to his laptop for him to open.

Until he realized where I was located, I could practically hear his heart jump out of his chest. He closed and locked the door. And all the windows. 

And I pretended to want to rush in. As if I didn't know my way in if the doors and windows were locked. 

Newt learned a lot that night, lessons he will never forget in his life.

First I pulled and cut some wires in the electricity box. Immediately all lights fell out and the wifi disconnected from Newt's phone.

After that, I took a walk around the house and noticed Newt's car. It didn't take a genius to believe he might try something with that thing. I went down to poke holes into his car wheels. Making sure his only escape would be with his own damn feet.

After that- Newt wrote a beautiful message for me on the door- or was it the window? Doesn't matter... 

It said he had not seen my face and that his boyfriend would be home soon. I found that hilarious, to be very honest with you guys. I heard his Skype call with his boyfriend, and I knew there was nobody to come around for the next couple of days. So for the night, I believed to have free game. 

I took off my mask after that- I think I forgot to mention wearing it- yes I wore a mask to make the entire first meeting a bit more dramatic. 

I told him my entire plan, really, I could walk in whenever I wanted, and I would walk in the moment he would be on the brink of insanity. 

After that, our cat and mouse game was on. And sometimes, Newt liked to forget who the mouse was, and who the cat. 

I don't want to go into much details with this, my story would be too long, but I do remember every detail. Officers. I remember each and every cry coming from those lips and every desperate look in his eyes. 

After that, it was a lot of terrorizing. He wanted to get out, and I wanted him to stay where the hell he was. 

He turned on the alarm of his car, in hopes to get attention from someone. In return I scared him by the window with Thomas' corpse, where Newt had attempted to grab Thomas' phone unsuccessfully, because I had looked after it already.

Then I lost track of him for a while, but he came up again from under the veranda, a great surprise for me. And it had almost worked if it hadn't been for his slow pace and loudness. I'm a hunter after all. 

I chased him back into his little home, his feet got injured, I suspected and he had a hard time catching his breath. 

Not long after that, he threw his flashlight into the forest. I was afraid he would get noticed so I went to return it for myself. When I came back, it was to that son of a bitch climbing the roof.

I had no idea what his plan was from there. Standing on the roof? What would happen then?

I decided to give a little warning shot. With my arrow, pierced right into his fleshy thigh. The sound was delicious, and it warmed my insides to see him fall down to the roof. 

I climbed up as well, if he was going to kill himself, I needed to be there first, but he took me off guards and punched me off the roof- literally punched me with my own weapon and I fell all the way down. 

After that, I can assure you, I was pissed. My crossbow was important to me, one the only few possessions I actually have, and was now in the hands of that little shit. 

Hmm... to be honest, I did not like where the story went after that. It all got too much out of control. There was no fun in a game nobody understood the rules of. 

Because there came, Gally. 

Don't let me get started on how much I despise Gally. That little whore sucking cunt blew up my entire evening. My entire plan and now also my life. 

He came there around 3 or 4 am, not buying my story that I was a police officer. Gally- Thomas' partner, knew Thomas was visiting Newt and Newt's boyfriend Minho was getting worried about Newt, so Gally was coming to investigate. 

And when I started to analyze him, I knew I couldn't take him in a fight. Not in my wildest dreams and without my weapon.

So luckily, there came Newt and distracted Gally enough for me to stab him fast and clear in the neck. And the chase was over quite quickly after that. 

He still managed to pull me to the ground and try to choke me, but his attempts weren't enough and he died, pooled in his own blood, not too far from Thomas' body. 

Newt, too scared to open the door and fight for Gally's life like a real man, stood frozen by the door for a long time. Crying and sobbing for his friends life. I think he should have tried harder. 

They could have taken me together. I sincerely believe they could. 

Anyway. I decided to take it easy for a moment after that. I was exhausted and I'd almost been chocked to death. My fingers were burning from where Newt had pushed the window closed onto them. 

Fuck it turned out to be a horrible night. 

Because Newt- Godawful Newt- decided it was time for more games. As if he was the one who decides the rules.

He shot me. With my arrow, with my bow, in my shoulder. He shot me.

I caught up with him quite easily. His hand got stuck between the door. I'm glad we could both experience some hand crushing that day, only Newt could always use some extra reminding, couldn't he? I left my mark on that hand, and he will always remember me. 

After that, I decided it was time to come inside, Newt had lost plenty of blood. He was desperate and dizzy, he was making mistakes, but so was I. I needed to finish this on my terms. 

So I took a thick hard rock from the forest and started smashing the door. It wasn't easy, as it would always look in the movies. It took plenty of smashes before the glass finally burst and I was able to stick a hand through, but by that time, Newt had disappeared into a room by the left side of the house. Where I had seen a window. 

I turned back and went to climb through the window. Waiting there for Newt. I was sitting quietly in the bathtub behind him, ready to cut his neck open, like I had done with Gally. And have some fun with what was left of his body afterwards. 

I do not know how, but he did notice me sitting behind him, even after he had passed our several times already. 

He stabbed me right back, and fled the room for me to follow. 

It all gets blurry for me as well then. We had this intense fight in the kitchen and living room after that. 

We chocked each other. I think I was winning at first, I had him in my hands and he was stilling very slowly. His face turning blue and his eyes big and desperate. 

Until something sharp and solid stuck into my head out of nowhere and everything went hot and white, until it turned into faded black. 

That's when I woke up here, and I wonder how my beautiful boy is doing now. How his bruises are complimenting his eyes. How many disabilities will add up on his list, if he even survives at all. 

I doubt it.

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoaaa that was a little dark


	13. pae-a-nêl

Minho threw up. 

Alby had seen it coming and had taken the plastic bag they requested from Teresa. He held his hand on Minho's shoulder. Trying to seep some comfort into him. 

Lizzy was looking pale as well. As if she was about to pass out. 

Nick had gotten all of them some cola and a Mars bar. To get them through the shock and as a late evening snack. 

"This means, we will most likely not charge Newt for attempted assault or murder. It will be looked upon as self defense. Randall takes full responsibility and pride in his actions. He will most likely not lie about his other cases either. You have seen the last of him, I hope." Nick says when they all sit down in the hallway again. Rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

George tries not to feel guilty over the statement he just read towards the group of friends. "Newton is the first person of Randall's victims to survive. He is an outstanding young man. I hope to get his side of the story as well, and soon." 

Minho washes the taste of vomit away with the cola. His fingers shaking as he drinks slowly. 

He couldn't believe this happened to Newt. To his wonderful beautiful Newt. 

"Randall will be put in jail as soon as the hospital releases him, but we made sure he is cuffed well enough. And do not fear, he is in a hospital on the other side of the city and will be put in one of our best jails in the states, far away from Newton. I assure you." George adds. Trying to take the edge off the conversation. 

Lizzy was crying again. Her sobs shaking her body. "This man deserves to die. He doesn't deserve life. He doesn't deserve to make so many victims and get away with some jail time." 

Alby tugs her into a hug, trying to quiet her down. 

Nick nods, agreeing full heartedly. "That's why we do this job, Ma'm. We don't want creeps like that running around and hurting people. We'll do as much as we can to get justice for Newton." 

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

Minho almost forgot about the world outside the hospital, until the next day he reads the front page of the Daily News Brenda is reading next to him. 

'Justice for deaf fantasy novelist Newton?' Alongside a beautiful picture of Newt next to it. 

Brenda doesn't look up at his glare. "Don't look so pissy, Minho." 

"They have no idea what he is going through right now. They have no rights to write a cover about him."

Brenda rolls her eyes, still reading her cartoon. "People are curious, Newt is a famous author and they didn't even say anything negative, only that court is going too slow- Randall should long have been put away and Newt still not waking up." 

Minho grumbles, but doesn't interfere anymore. Googling Newt's name on his phone and getting hundreds of articles and fan pages sending their best wishes and love. 

It warms his heart, if only a little bit. To see people still caring for Newt, even after hearing so little for the last few days. 

The FBI didn't hold Randall's statement secret from the media, Minho figured out quickly. It matched all the evidence and it seemed to not even have enough space for lies. 

The internet went crazy over the statement and finally some real confirmed information about the case. 

"How long before Randall's judgement will be official?" He asks Brenda, watching her swift in her chair for a moment while thinking. 

"Depends, sweetie." She says wistfully. "Three kills is considered serial killer by the FBI. If Newt doesn't make it that would make Randall a serial killer. But he might already have a series of murders on his name in his old files. But with Newt awake, his statement might make Randall's punishment longer. But court will wait until Newt either wakes up or doesn't anymore at all, court has no hurry, as you can imagine." 

Minho frowns at that. He might as well start asking Nick and George what Randall's old cases hold. And what Randall's punishment might be at worst or at best.

"Don't break your back over it sweetie. He admitted two murders as if it was an Olympic sport he practiced and said he was planning on murdering Newt as well. He won't be seeing much of the world for the upcoming decades. And with a bit of luck, the rest of his life." 

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

Newt was always radiating warmth, like a heater in the cold winter or the sun itself on a summer day.

The first few days after Newt's surgery that had not been the case. 

Newt had been chilly and his skin barely managed to get as warm as the soup they served in the hospital. 

But with Teresa's motherly tugging in and Brenda's extra blankets, the colors slowly came back to Newt's cheeks and his skin became warm to touch again. 

Minho enjoyed holding Newt's hand a lot more, now there was warmth seeping through his boyfriends skin.

He loved it, actually, it was as if a part of Newt had woken up again and made a bit of Minho's life brighter again. 

And soon after that the rosy pink color took on Newt's cheeks again, on a rainy autumn night, his eyes blinked open. 

Minho had been there, of course he had. There hadn't been many moments he actually wasn't by Newt's side.

It went too fast. And was over too soon. 

Newt's eyes opened groggily. An inhuman cracking dry noise came from his damaged throat. 

And his hands curled into the sheets, before rolling over and throwing up on the white smooth hospital floor. 

"Newt!" Minho cried out. His voice shaking almost as much as his legs did when he stormed up from the armchair. 

Teresa was at Newt's side almost faster than Minho had. Rolling Newt further onto his side so he couldn't choke himself. 

Newt was coughing uncontrollably after he was done throwing up. His eyes squeezed closed and distressed noises falling from his lips as if he was unable to breathe properly any more. 

Teresa supplied an oxygen mask and secured it around Newt's head as fast as she could. Her hands were not shaking or hesitating like Minho's had. But she was fast and efficient. 

Minho did almost feel useless, if it wasn't for him untangling Newt's hand from the sheets and holding Newt's hand while getting reflexive squeezes over and over again. 

Until Newt slowly started to get groggy again. 

Teresa was already cleaning the mess on the ground, trying not to untangle Minho and Newt from one another, before she started checking Newt's vitals again. 

"Fever has broken." She announces, a smile on her face. "His fever finally broke, Minho. Everything can only get better from here."

Minho nodded. His heart making back flips in his chest over and over again every time Newt squeezed their fingers together.  

With his free hand he strokes Newt's golden hair. "I can't believe this." He honestly couldn't. 

Even if Newt's eyes were only slightly open, and his best focus was on breathing and coughing, it felt surreal to have him awake and so much closer in his arms again. 

Teresa tugs the blanket snuggly around Newt's feet. "He is still heavily sedated. He might not remember this, or even feel much right now, but- God we were all rooting for him to wake up again." 

Another soft far away groan left Newt's lips, before he slowly relaxed back into the pillows. His face going slack again and his eyes slipping closed tiredly. 

Minho couldn't help the immense grin spread over his lips- still holding Newt's hand and stroking his hair gently. "That's okay. It's all fine, his fever broke. That's what counts."

Teresa nods. "That's what counts." Before putting a hand to Newt's forehead. "I'll get Alby and Lizzy from the cafeteria." 

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

Minho couldn't really feel guilty because they had missed it. He had been there. He had held Newt and given him comfort even if Newt wasn't entirely present. 

Lizzy had felt slightly off about it. Of course she had, it was her brother and the only time she left his room he decided to wake up again. 

Luckily, because Minho didn't like the way Lizzy would look at him whenever she had to go home or attend to a lecture, she and Alby had been there when Newt woke up the second time. 

Less sedated this time. Less feverish and less far away. 

Lizzy was lounging on the bed beside Newt. While Alby and Minho sat on the opposite side, talking about their day and what they were going to have for dinner tonight. 

Both Brenda and Teresa were there, just around the time their shift would switch up and Teresa was to take over. 

Newt's awakening had been unexpected and out of the blue. 

He started to trash and flay his limbs around as much as the wires and machines allowed. 

Lizzy was so surprised that she immediately jumped out of the bed. Shaking all over. 

Alby called for Teresa and Brenda whom were discussing Newt's medication intake in the hallway. 

And Minho once again stood helplessly, watching Newt suddenly cry out as if in immense pain and shock. 

Then Minho realized Newt actually was experiencing immense pain and going through intense shock. 

Newt started to sob, his body curling up on itself and kicking out as if the protect himself from unwanted intruder. 

Minho knew better than to just call out Newt's name, or to touch him without a proper warning, 

Lizzy didn't think so as much. Her soft small hands splayed over Newt's back. Her voice shushing and caring. As if forgetting Newt wasn't actually able to make out what she was saying.

Teresa, Brenda and Alby soon entered the room as well. Teresa rolled Newt's blanket down so he had more room to move himself and feel less trapped. 

Brenda decided to open the window for some fresh cold air to fill the room. The wind blowing sharply. 

Alby tried to darken the room a little, trying to figure out if Newt's panic had anything to do with his concussion.

Then Minho got some more bravery, deciding to climb in bed with Newt, taking the spot in front of Newt.

Gently, he pried Newt's clamped fingers away from the hospital blanket and instead lets them curl into his own sweater. 

Then Newt leans forward to cry into Minho's chest. His legs curling closer towards Minho's and his breathing started to slow down. 

Even after ten minutes Newt's sobbing didn't stop, but he wasn't as much trashing around anymore and the panic seemed to seep out of him. 

Minho couldn't help himself, a few tears fell to his cheeks. His eyes focused completely on Newt. 

"It's okay. We're all here. It's okay." 

Teresa told Brenda to go after a few more minutes passed by. She could handle it from here. 

They bid her a good night and she left with a heavy heart. 

Lizzy wasn't shaking much anymore after that. Just gently touching her brother to show she was there as well. 

Alby went around to get them all some drinks and food from the fending machine. He wasn't very good at sitting around and waiting for something to happen, so he let Minho and Lizzy take that role. 

After a few more moments of silence besides Newt's quieting sobs, Minho clears his throat. An arm wrapped around Newt's waist to keep him close. 

"It's okay Liz. I think you could fit in here as well." 

She was shaking her head immediately. Her fingers trailing off where she was still stroking Newt's back. "I'm afraid to hurt him, or scare him off again." 

Minho understands her point. But doesn't let her feel guilty about something that was bound to happen: Newt waking up and realizing what had happened to him and his friends that night. 

"You didn't scare him, Liz. He woke up and you jut happened to sit next to him." He tries to reason, but his own voice was shaking with doubt. 

Perhaps Newt had been afraid of them and their closeness when he woke up again. Perhaps it was the little amount of sedatives, or the headache or-

"It could have been anything." 

Lizzy looks doubtful, but keeps quiet for now.

They both do for a little while.

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

After a long while Newt stops crying completely. 

It was a little over midnight. Lizzy and Alby both had work the next day so they left a few hours earlier. 

Minho was still laying in bed beside Newt, still holding him while Teresa walked in and out of the room occasionally to check on them. 

They didn't attempt to let Newt eat by himself today, but there was hope that the feeding tube might be allowed to me removed by Brenda the next morning. 

Teresa had also tucked the blanket around Minho to keep him warm together with Newt. 

After another few moments of silence and completely stillness between both of them, Newt decided to roll over on his side. 

With red rimmed eyes and a stuffy nose, Newt squeezes Minho's hand softly. His limbs still heavy and his head still dizzy. 

"Hi." He breathes out, before hiccuping again. "Minho. I thought I'd never see you again."

Minho smiles at him. His hands shaking when he cups Newt's damp cheeks gently, mindful of the yellowish bruises gracing Newt's throat. "You're so beautiful. I can't believe you finally woke up." 

Newt touches Minho's hand with his own, not minding the IV attached to it. "I thought- I thought I was death." 

Minho swallows back the bile in his throat. "Don't be silly. I'd never let you die. Never." 

"I love you."

"I love you too, Newt. We all love you. Lizzy and Alby just left, but they love you too. There are so many people that love you unconditionally." 

Newt smiles at him, his free hand tracing patterns over Minho's chest. "How long was I out?"

"A few weeks." He sighs, thinking clearer. "18 days." His fingers tracing the line of Newt's cheek. "You're so beautiful."

Newt tenderly lifts his chin up. Still numb all over and sore- so he was clumsy and messy, and reached out to tenderly kiss Minho. 

Minho wasn't sure what to do with his hands, so he kept them on Newt's hip where the bruises didn't reach. His eyes closing and deepening the kiss.

Before Newt started coughing again. Involuntary. His eyes filling with tears. 

Minho quickly moves away, grabbing the glass of water Teresa-or Brenda left for him and brought it to Newt's lips. 

Swallowing looked painful and tiring with the amount of energy that went into the act. 

Newt pushed Minho's hand away after a few more swallows. "My throat is raw." 

Minho doesn't dare to touch it the way Newt did, tracing the bruises over his delicate neck. 

"Well, I heard you were chocked after all."

Newt tried to snort, but the sound was off and painful. "How did you- is he-" he started shaking again. His fingers curling into Minho's sweater. His breathing quickening.

Minho shushed him. Wrapping him up tightly. Trying to find his eyes. "It's okay. Newt it's all right." 

It didn't calm Newt down right away, but after a few more moments of warm content cuddling, he calmed enough to read Minho's lips again. 

"He's alive, but the FBI has him, will bring him to a secured prison far away from here. I promise you. He won't ever bother you, won't even get past me. I promise." 

Newt didn't say anything else anymore that evening. His face resting in the crook of Minho's neck and his breathing eventually evened out until he was asleep.

Minho still had his arms wrapped around him. And promised to God that he would never let Newt get in such danger again. Never. 

|H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H| |H|U|S|H|

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww poor minho, poor Newt, final chapter is coming along


	14. pae-a-canad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank Aj and Mick for the very last chapter and I'm so glad we did this, lov you guys so fucking much jesus. 
> 
> Btw chapters are written in Elvish if anyone was wondering HAHAH

"Please, join me now in celebration. The winner of the 2016 Man Booker price for best selling autobiography is Hush by Newton Isaacson!" 

Newt's heart did a tiny jump when Minho squeezed his hand tenderly and gave him a meaningful smile. "Come on." 

The joy that sparked through him was bright and clear. Spreading through his limbs and stretching out into a almost childish smile. 

Minho was at his side all the way towards the stage, all smiles and glistering eyes as well. Even if his palm became slightly sweaty in Newt's. 

The room was filled with cheers and the flashing lights of cameras. Making Newt the center of attention when he stood in front of the microphone to get his award handed over. 

A lean blonde lady in a wonderful blood red dress gives him the heavy trophy with a vibrant smile. A few handshakes are exchanged between them, before he was expected to give a speech. 

He laid the reward down on the platform. Smiling towards the public the best he could with so many nerves wrecking him. 

/ Good evening ladies and gentlemen \ He signed contently, Minho stepping to translate into the microphone. 

/ I'm so happy and surprised to have won the book of the year. Never- not even once in my life I have opened up so much about myself publicly. I wanted people to know my story \ His face went a little pale and the room got a bit grimmer. 

/ Even if it was a sad story to tell... there are always dangers and horrors in the world and we should never close our eyes \

Minho took a deep breath. Touched by Newt's words and eyes. 

/ This award goes out to my friends Gally and Thomas, whom we lost in the storm of senseless violence. My heart goes out to all out there whom are still suffering under the pressure of someone else's actions \ 

A moment of silence fell over the people in the audience. Their hearts aching for the loss that came in waves from Newt. 

/ This award goes out to the policemen who solved my case after I was left behind in unjust. This award goes out to the paramedics and nurses that saved my life and took care of me when all hope was lost. This award goes to the lawyers that stood by me when justice was found in court \

Newt blinks away the tears in his eyes. Threatening to spill over. 

/ This award goes out to my boyfriend Minho, who stayed awake with me every time I couldn't sleep at night. This award goes to Minho, who was not only a crutch for me to lean on, but also my reason to live every time I thought of dying. This award goes to heroes without capes, that kill demons without a face \

Cheers and applause followed immediately. The people that had read the book in tears and shaking. 

Minho reached out to hold Newt's hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it softly. 

"You're amazing with words." He says tentatively, while the woman in the red dress hands over a bouquet of bright flowers and kisses both of them in the cheek again. A signal to get them to move from the stage so the next winner could be announced. 

Newt snorts. "Nothing compared to what your mouth can do." Making sure to keep eye contact with Minho so they could easily read each others lips. 

Minho laughs at Newt's eyebrow wiggle, watching silently as Newt gets his mind back to where they actually were. And grabbed his award from the platform, before walking towards the edge of the stage to get back to their seats. 

Minho watches him go for a few moments. The healthy glow back in his boyfriends body. And eyes once again bright and lively, instead of cold with fear and shock. 

There was still a slight limp in his step, even after all this time, the thigh wound had left a lot of pain and a clear reminder of the past. And Randalls painful intentions. 

Minho still couldn't wrap his head around it, remembering how fragile and small Newt had looked in the hospital, compared to the award winning novelist survivor he was right now. A lot had changed, and a lot also hadn't. 

Perhaps, Minho liked it that way. 

The audience had grown silent again and Newt started to look confused why Minho hadn't been following him back to their seats yet. 

Minho took a deep breath. His fingers pulsing around the cold band in his left pocket. 

"Some days. Are days you want to relive over and over again. Like the day I met Newton Isaacson. When I looked at him and I knew there was something rememberable in his eyes. That will always be a day I can rant on and on about... but some other days, are days you want to squish together aggressively and flush through the toilet. Only to never speak of it again as long as you're able not to. Like the day I found out my dog had died, I had a D on my essay and my car broke down." He spoke into the microphone. His eyes fixed on Newt, who stood a few steps away from the podium.

"There are also days... I would have given anything to prevent from happening. Anything." He tried to keep his voice from wavering and his knees from shaking and giving out. 

"Like the day I wasn't there for Newt when I was needed the most." 

Newt immediately shook his head. He always did whenever the guild started to show on Minho's face. Arguing Minho was always there when he could help. Reassuring with all his power that Minho had saved his life, that day and that Minho had actually been there where he was needed the most. 

"And I just want to make very sure that from now, I will always be there when you need me Newt." 

He stepped back from the microphone and dropped down on one knee. 

"The course of true love never did run smooth. So please Newton Isaacson. Would you do me the enormous favor of marrying me?" 

Something warm and deep rippled through Newt's heart and spreading over his entire body in a matter of seconds. 

And that was the very moment, Newt had finally completely realized that there was still a long beautiful life waiting ahead of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAND IN THE EEEND THE LOVE YOU TAKE IS EQUAL TO THE LOVE----- YOU MAKE 
> 
> That was itttt the end of hush. And one shot ideas on this verse? Just comment bro

**Author's Note:**

> Always open for feedback! And I love reading comments!!!


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